


Lawrence 99

by RubenWrites (My_floaty_coaty_boy)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (only briefly) - Freeform, Bi Dean, Cop!Dean, M/M, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Self-Harm, cas saves dean, cop!Charlie, firefighter!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-18 02:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10607709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_floaty_coaty_boy/pseuds/RubenWrites
Summary: Castiel saved a man from a fire. That's kind of his job. Little did he know, that man was the best detective in Lawrence. Well, so he says.





	1. Another Call, Another Load of Fire Puns

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so, I'm British, so be prepared for unnecessary 'u's and such. Also, TWs? I guess? Fire, for one. more will be added when/if needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me in the comments if i should add warnings up here, or if i should change anything! :)

                   “Castiel! We’ve got a call, c’mon!”

  
                   It had been the end of a triple shift. He was so close to being able to clean up, go home, and spend the next 8 hours watching Netflix reruns with Meg while sleep evaded him yet again. But no. No, that would be too convenient. Instead, the Topeka Fire Department had been called all the way to Lawrence, which, being a small town, didn’t have it’s own station. Of course. He spent the twenty-minute drive that followed trying desperately to keep his eyes open. They reached the building, and Oh, God. That was one hell of a fire. The entire block of apartments had gone up. He could feel the heat and smoke in his eyes before his friend/co-worker, Balthazar, thrust him his helmet. He was aware of the captain, a stocky, dark-skinned man named Uriel, yelling at him that there was still someone trapped inside. He nodded, grabbed a smoke mask and ran in without much of a second thought. Hey, the quicker he saved these people, the quicker the others could put the fire out and he could go home. He missed Meg.

  
                   Shaking himself back to the situation at hand, he kicked the perishing door in and was swallowed by smoke.

  
                    Inside the building, the flames devoured everything unobstructed. The first floor had already been evacuated, so he tested the stability of the stairs, and ascended. For the first few doors, the second floor was vacant. But, after the third time announcing his presence, he heard a response. Coughing, and a hoarse attempt at a yell. He couldn’t make out words, amid the cocktail of adrenaline and sweat from the heat building in his helmet, but sound was enough. He kicked his way through doors and around half desecrated furniture until he saw a struggling form. Castiel doubled his efforts to reach the slumped figure, and quickly identified it as a male. He grabbed the man’s shoulder, turning him over and tugging him over his back. The man protested, but Castiel only caught a few words; “No,” “Jess,” and, “Sam.”

  
                     “Shh, it’s OK. I’ve got you. Are you hurt? Can you move?”

  
                       The man nodded and attempted to struggle to his feet, but had to relent with a violent coughing fit. Castiel could feel him drooping into unconsciousness, so he kept talking while pulling the man to the exit. “My name is Castiel. What’s yours?” If he kept the man talking, it would be easier to keep him awake. He moved a filter mask over the guy’s face, to prevent smoke inhalation. They guy struggled, but murmured something Castiel assumed was his name. Dan? Gene? Something along those lines, he was sure.  
He made it to the stairs before an issue arose. Or, rather, he’d made it to where the stairs were, before. Now, there was a gap, and half a bannister. Shit. OK. Right.  
“OK, so I’m going to move you over my shoulder, are you OK?”

  
                        The guy nodded, and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Usually I wait ‘til the second date.”  
Castiel rolled his eyes, and despite it not being quite the time, smirked. He threw the guy over his shoulder in a Firemans Lift, (a struggle considering the man was over 6 foot,) and hurdled down the gap. The guy groaned when Castiel hit the floor, but he didn’t have time to ask for a status update. The short trip to the door, down the entrance steps and to the nearest waiting ambulance felt like a trip to Hell and back. He dropped the guy onto a gurney in the back of the ambulance and removed his helmet, gasping for the strikingly cool air as it hit his skin. The guy had removed his own filter mask, and was taking great gulps of air. He pushed himself up, only to be met by a paramedic’s stilling hand as she began to check him for burns or serious injuries. Castiel didn’t see this, nor did he see the way the guy stared after him as he made his way back to the hulking red fire engine he’d arrived in, his colleagues dousing the flames that had almost killed them.

                       Castiel had hardly a chance to settle in the back of the truck after the flames had been extinguished before Balthazar’s grinning, slightly ash-stained face appeared around the doors. “Hey, Cassie, the guy you saved is asking for you. I think he has the hots for you, no pun intended, of course.” The smirk Balt gave him suggested that the joke was, in fact, fully thought out. Cas groaned, but pushed past the short blond man. The quicker he talked to this guy, the quicker he could leave.  
The guy was sitting on the back of the ambulance still, paramedics still rushing around him, but now he looked considerably more, hmm, what’s the word…

                      …Cute.  
                      Shit.

  
                     Castiel approached slower after that, all thoughts of arriving home to Meg and a pre-planned marathon of Vicar Of Dibley all but forgotten.

  
                    “Hey, Cas, right? Sorry, I, uh…I’m not exactly in the best of shape.” The guy smirked, and Cas said goodbye to his functional thoughts. “I’m Dean, by the way, I don’t know if you understood anything I said in there, I was kinda outta it.”

 

                     “Hello, Dean. That’s understandable, you had inhaled considerable amounts of smoke. I hope you recover well.”

 

Dean chuckled once. “Yeah, you an’ me both, pal. Geez, I’m never gonna hear the end of this at the station,” the smirk on his face put Balthazar’s to shame, and for a second Castiel forgot how to talk.

  
“Uh—Station?”

  
“I’m a cop, wouldya believe. At Lawrence Nine-Nine.”

  
Castiel was no stranger to the odd feud between the police dept. and the fire dept. Although he failed to see the point of it, that hadn’t stopped him from helping Gabriel release six pigeons into the police office last fall.

  
“I, uh, listen, I know we have a kinda prank war thing goin’ on, but, uh…thanks. For, y’know, savin’ my life. Truce?” Dean offered his hand, and Cas shook it without hesitation.

  
“Truce.” He recognized the name now. Dean, as in, Dean Winchester. As in, the man who had got back at Gabe by putting a paddling pool full of dyed foam under the fireman’s pole and called an emergency. The resulting mess had taken a very expensive dry-cleaning bill to remove. In fact, Cas was fairly certain he was wearing the same uniform now. Oh, the irony.

  
“You’ll have to come by the station some time, see me when I’m at my best.”

  
“Are you…flirting with me? Less than thirty minutes after I pulled you from a possibly deadly fire?”

  
“Well, when’s a better time? My prince Charming just saved me from the monster, and now we live happily ever after or something, yeah?”

  
Cas blushed, and for the first time in his career was thankful that he was covered in ash. Oh, geez. He was covered in dirt, and this guy was still flirting with him. What the Hell?

He was about to reply, but Gabriel, ever the annoying brother/co-worker, flashed a grin and wrecked the scene. “Hey, Cassie, I get that you’re talking to an emotionally-vulnerable thankfully-no-longer-smokin’ piece of man meat, here, but Meg needs you to get back, right? You should go, you’re exhausted, and this guy needs to go to the ER for concussion, or so I’ve been reliably informed by that lovely blonde thing over there. See you tomorrow, bro!” And with that, he was gone. Just like magic.

  
“I…uh…I’m sorry, that’s my brother. He, he’s a little…” Castiel floundered for a word, but Dean beat him to it.

  
“Pain in the ass? Yeah, I’ve got one too. God, I should call him. But, uh, sorry, I guess.”

  
Castiel didn’t have time to ask what Dean was sorry for, before a paramedic interrupted and Uriel dragged him away.

The thought lingered in his mind for hours. He was still thinking about Dean when he got home. The small-ish apartment may have been a far reach from what he’d wanted, but, hey, it was home.  
“Hello, Meg!” He greeted, ruffling the brunet cat’s fur when she leapt to greet him. “How’ve you been? Kill any mice?” He was aware that some people considered it crazy to talk to a cat, but he was of the opinion that as long as the cat didn’t talk back to him, he was probably fine.  
“I met someone today, Meg.” He murmured, scooping out her food and placing the dish on the floor. “He’s cute. I saved his life, not that I’m going to bring that up as bribery if I ever need to. Don’t look at me like that.” The cat gave him a passing, seemingly accusatory glance, before finishing her food and sauntering off.  
Castiel stared after her, distracted in his own thoughts. Around him, the apartment grew dark. He eventually, he went to bed, but sleep never found him.

*~*~*~*

Dean was discharged from the emergency unit in a few hours, with nothing but a warning to take it easy and some pain pills. He pulled out his phone, miraculously unharmed by the fire, and dialed his brother. He picked up after three rings.

"Dean?"  
"Hey, Sammy. Listen, there's been an accident. Uh, an incident, really, and I'm fine, just come out of the ER."  
"What? Are you OK? What happened?"  
"Uh, yeah, I'm good, but there was, uh, there was a fire, in the apartment." Dean never called his apartment 'home'. He didn't realize this, of course, but Sam did. In all truth, it had just never felt like a home; sparse and cold instead of warm and welcoming.  
"A fire? What the Hell?! Was it an accident?"  
"Probably? I don't know, man. Someone probably left their stove on, or something. But some hot fireman pulled me out, and now I can't prank 'em anymore."  
"Dean, only you would nearly die in a fire, get a crush, and bring an end to that stupid, 5-year-old feud in one night."  
"Oh, no, Sammy, it's not over! I'm just gonna get Charlie an' Kev to carry out the dirty work!" Dean chuckled. "And I didn't 'nearly die', i just got a bit of a concussion. I'll be fine. Stop worryin'."  
He could practically hear the eye roll/bitch face combo his brother was pulling, despite the miles between them. Sam was at Stanford, studying to become a kick-ass lawyer. Dean liked to think that when he graduated they'd set up shop as the Winchester version of Law and Order.  
"Listen, man, i gotta go, but it was good talkin' to ya." Dean allowed his tone to slip to something mildly softer, so his brother would know he meant it.  
"...Sure, Dean. Take care of yourself, OK?"  
"Yeah, Sam, you too. See ya." He hung up.  
He hated the bus, but he left his baby outside the apartment. He wasn't going to walk back there, the place was cinders, and--

\--Shit. He had nowhere to stay.

*~*~*~*

Charlie was not a night owl. Not after a shift at the dept, and a six-hour gaming marathon on CoD. Damn noobs. She'd just fallen asleep when some weirdo knocked at her door. She considered rolling over and ignoring it, but they knocked again, so she pushed her way sleep and waddled through her home, tugging the door open in a bleary-eyed stupor. "Dean?"  
"Hey, Charlie, sorry to wake you up--"  
"This had better be important, bitch, because I was having a super sweet dream involving both Princess Leia and Peggy Carter. Whaddaya want?"  
Dean snorted, and Charlie moved aside so he could enter. "I would have called, but I lost your number, sorry. Uh, but, something's happened, and-"  
Charlie was instantly awake. "What? What's happened?"  
"My apartment's kinda...burnt down."  
Charlie almost screamed. "What?! What do you mean? Are you OK? Dean Winchester, if you're putting off going to the hospital again, then I'll--"  
"Chill, Charles, please, I've already been. They said I'm fine. But, I don't have anywhere to stay now, so--"  
"I'll prep the couch. I think I have a baggy jumper and some old swim shorts that'll do fine."  
Dean didn't even bother asking why. He found it easier to sleep that way. "Thanks, Charlie, I owe ya."  
"That's cool, you can just help me put baby oil on all the toilet seats at the fire station next week. I need to get back for the 'christmas-wrapping-everything-in-the-office' one last week. How did they even get the key?!" Charlie fished for the clothes while she spoke, trowing the promised articles at him over her shoulder.  
"Uh, about that." He pulled his shirt off, having left his jacket hanging by the door, and tugged on the jumper. Charlie kept her back turned while he pulled the shorts on. "Sorry, Charlie, I think I need to lay off the pranks for a while, I kinda made a truce with one of the guys who pulled me out, and since he's kinda cute, I-"  
"Woah, woah, woahwoahwoah!" Charlie span around to face him, with such force that he had to step back. "Are you telling me that you, Dean Winchester, King of the Closeted, has a date with a male firefighter? How long do you think that'll stay quiet?"  
Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not closeted, you know and so does Sam, and Bobby,"  
"Yeah, but no-one on the force. And I bet you invited him to the station some time, huh?"  
"...OK, maybe, but it's not like I really care about what they think," Dean sneered, catching the blanket Charlie threw at him.  
"Yeah, you do, Dean, remember when Benny made that gay joke and you nearly spat out your coffee all over your computer?"  
"Well, yeah, but I know they wouldn't have an issue with it, I mean, you're out, right? And no one cares about your homo-ness, yeah? Plus, I like him, Char. I've seen him around, and fuck, if you can look that good covered in ash and sweat, then imagine how he'll look when--"  
"OK, Dean, that's good enough, thanks! I don't need to know about your guy-fantasies. Lesbian, remember? I'm goin' to bed. There's a spare toothbrush under the sink if you need it, 'Kay?" With that, she was gone, TARDIS-blue door slamming behind her. Dean grinned, and turned to the bathroom. In five minutes flat, he was asleep on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! so this is my first fic on here, sp thats fun. Mind leaving a comment, or dropping in on my tumblr? @cracked-in-a-box.tumblr.com


	2. Lawrence PD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Charlie go to work. We meet their coworkers, and try to keep the beans from spilling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Right, so, first thing's first: TWs. There's nothing in this chapter that I think could be counted, but if you disagree, tell me, and i'll fix that.  
> also, AO3 does weird things to the layout? idk

The high-pitched whistle of Charlie’s thrift-store kettle was a rude awakening. The couch was too small for someone over 6 foot, so his back ached. The jumper was itchy. The blanket was thin. But Charlie was his best friend. And she didn’t have to give him a place to stay. She certainty didn’t have to pop a mug of coffee, just the way he liked it, on the table in front of him.  
“Rise and shine sleepy head! We need to head to work!”  
He sat up, running his hand over his face and snatching up the drink. Charlie, in a hoodie and blouse decorated with tiny Star Trek insignias, grinned at him from over her TARDIS mug of green tea.  
“Do you think he’ll show up today? At the office?”  
Dean’s brain took a moment to catch up. “Uhm…probably not, Char. He probably doesn’t care about me. Besides, I think he has a girlfriend.”  
“What? Why?” She pulled on a pair of red converse as he got up to get changed in the bathroom.  
He yelled his answer through the door, not bothering to lock it. “’Cause, yesterday, he said he had to get back home to someone called Meg. Or, his brother said he did.”  
She didn’t reply until he was out of the bathroom, “ OK, but, you never know, right? I mean, he seemed interested, yeah?”  
“He was probably just being polite to the newly-homeless, somewhat concussed housefire victim.”  
Charlie just hummed, and said nothing until they bundled into her tiny yellow car and began driving towards the Lawrence Police Department.

*~*~*~*  
When they entered the dept., Dean and Charlie were met with cheers and laughter.  
“Hey, bizatches, wassup?!” Charlie high-fived Benny in greeting and he handed the two of them some breakfast.  
Kevin joined them, and spoke through laughter. “Ash just came from the fire dept. He’s stuck 500 pictures of Rick Astley on the walls and under basically every surface, and rigged the lockers to play The Song when you open them! It’s gonna be great!”  
Ash, glorious, mullet-headed, shotgunning-before-9am, Ash, sauntered in, grinning like the devil, and raising his arms like a champion. “Did somebody say Winner?! They’ll never get us back for this!”  
The entire office gave a collective ‘Woop!’ before the Captain, Bobby Singer, came in and told them colourfully to get back to work.

The day went smoothly. Several arrests, no surprises from the fire department, and by 4:30, Dean was ready to go, bouncing on his chair and shooting glances towards the door. Without work, there were no distractions to keep his thoughts from Castiel.  
“Hey, Dean-o, what’s up?” Charlie seemingly appeared from nowhere, Benny and Ash by her sides.  
“Nothin’ Char.”  
“Thinkin’ ‘bout you-know-who?” The voice Charlie said this in was enough to clue the other two, although they didn’t know the details. A collective “Oooooh!” was squealed, only slightly staged.  
“Nah. Cas isn’t gonna turn up.”  
“Who’s Cas? She hot?”  
Charlie snorted. “I’ll say. Cas is the one that pulled our Dean from the smoking remains of his house.”  
News of Dean’s situation had spread like, if you’ll excuse the term, wildfire. Benny and Ash looked sympathetically at him.  
“Dean, man, I’m sorry about that. But, hey, if you met someone, then at least there’s a little silver lining, or whatever. Even if she is from the fire department.”  
“A silver lining to my apartment burning to the ground? Sure, Ash.” Dean smirked.  
The elevator at the entrance to the office pinged open, and Dean’s head whipped around so quickly that he might have sprained his neck. There was a glimpse of the Topeka Fire dept logo, but instead of his dark haired, tall savoir, there was his short, brown-haired, smirking brother. Charlie slapped his shoulder as she walked past, murmuring, “Sure, you’re not thinking about Cas.”  
The newcomer held two boxes, both emblazoned with the Krispy Kreme logo. “Afternoon, boys! Rickrolling, huh? That was a good one, who’s idea was that? Very original!”  
Benny spoke up, “Oh, gee, thanks! Whatcha got there, pal?”  
“The name’s Gabe.” Gabe shot a wink at Charlie, more for effect than anything. “Donuts. An act of good will.”  
“Like we’re gonna fall for that!” Ash sneered, challenge in his eyes.  
“No, they’re good, see?” Gabe took one out of the top box, taking a bite. “See? They’re not even from us all, see, they’re from my brother, Cassie. He pulled one of yours from a building last night, but didn’t quite get his number. Dean? I think?”  
Dean went bright red, and Benny turned to him in question. Then so did everyone else. “Uh, I think you got that wrong, man. C’mon, guys, d’you believe anything he says?”  
“No, man, but…I mean, you were just—”  
Before Benny could finish the sentence, Gabe moved. He threw the contents of the boxes at the officers, and suddenly, there was flour. Everywhere. The box dropped to the ground, and by the time the dust settled, the fireman was gone.  
Kevin coughed and dusted as much four from him as he could, before picking up the boxes. Or rather, the box that had been made to look like two separate ones. The flour bombs had worked well, and everyone believed that Gabriel’s distraction had been exactly that.  
Dean was secretly relieved that he hadn’t had to explain, but acted moody when he had to help the others clean up.

The overtime and cleaning bills were worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or shoot me an ask?


	3. Baby oil and Green post-it notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean pranks the fire station, sorts out his living situation, and makes a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for the comments and such, i really appreciate them :) Also! I actually sat down and planned this story out, so I know whats gonna happen! yaaaaaaaaay!  
> OK so i dont know how America works, so this is kinda by UK rules. sorry.  
> TWs shouldn't be needed for this chapter, but if i'm wrong, tell me!

"Hey, Dean-o," Charlie didn't give him further warning before she sat heavily on his legs. He grunted and pulled away from her, forcing himself to sit up. "Not that I don't love having you on my couch, but, uh, what's up with your apartment?"

Dean groaned. "Uh, I called 'em up, they said they could replace all the shit in there, not that there was a lot, but, uh, since the fire wasn't the landlords fault, they don't need to give me a new place. Which is fuckin' wonderful." His voice, dripping with sarcasm, was enough to make Charlie look sympathetic, offering him a mug of coffee.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I can help you look for a place, if you want? I'm not gonna kick you out any time soon, you know that. But my couch isn't exactly the most comfortable of kip-sites."

It had been three days since the Flour Bomb Fiasco, four days since Dean had become homeless, and still, no word from Castiel. Well. It's not like Dean actually had a chance, right? The fire department hated the Lawrence PD. Castiel was attractive, probably, and definitely brave. He did pull people from burning buildings, after all. Dean wasn't one to lament over lost causes, but something inside of him did ache at the prospect of never talking to Castiel again, despite the brevity of their last meeting. Maybe Dean still had concussion. When he suggested as such, Charlie just hummed.

“Maybe he’s just busy.”

“Yeah, with his girlfriend, Charles.” He was moping, he knew it, and decided the only counter measure he could take was ignore it, and hope the problem, in this case, his feelings, went away.

 

The day was a productive one. Paperwork was filed, perps were apprehended, and, so far, there had been no further contact from the fire department. Of any kind.

Dean was suspicious.

               So, it seemed, was Ash. “Listen, man, all I’m sayin’ is those smug li’l dicks are bound to make a move. They’re just holdin’ off to get in our heads.”

               Benny just nodded from his desk, but Kevin spoke up. “Well, maybe they’ve given up! I mean, no-one retaliated for the flour bomb thing, right? Maybe they’re waiting for that.”

               Jo, a fairly new member of the team, spoke up from her mountain of files. “Nah, that would be playing fair.”

               The remark made Charlie snort, and she spoke up. “Actually, last night, after work, me an’ Dean-o went over there and left them a bit of a surprise.”

               Ash cheered. “What did ya do?”

               What, indeed.

 

_"Hey, Dean! C'mon!" Charlie grinned at him._

_"Are we really doing this?"_

_"Hey, Winchester, we have a war to win. Plus, maybe we'll bump into your Prince Charming, huh?"_

_Not for the first time, Dean regretted telling Charlie anything. Ever. "Fine." He handed her two bottles. "You do the girls one, I'll do the guys. Leave the disabled, yeah?"_

_Charlie nodded, accepting her weapons and beginning her quest. He mumbled after her, "Godspeed, young padawan." In return, she snorted and threw a Vulcan salute at him._

_It hadn't taken him long to liberally coat the seats to the toilets in baby oil, and he met no-one on his way to the bathroom. He was only slightly bitter about how clean the bathrooms were here compared to the Police Dept._

_He left the toilets and heard voices, ducking behind a block of lockers for cover. He didn't mean to listen. But he recognized two of the voices._

 

_"Anna, I'm not going over there. Do you think, after that stunt Gabe pulled, they'll even let me through the doors?" This voice was gruff, as if it's owner swallowed rocks every morning. It had a soft note, though, one that made Dean weak at the knees. So, one of them was Castiel._

_The net voice he recognized immediately, and it took all his strength not to just throw the leftover baby oil at Gabriel's smug smirk. "Don't you pin this on me, Cassie. Just because you're too shy to talk to him, doesn't mean--"_

_"I'm not shy! I just...I'm busy."_

_A female voice spoke up. "Busy with what? You have Meg, and not a whole lot else, Castiel. Sorry, but it seems to me like you're just making excuses." OK, now he was confused. Were these two encouraging Castiel to cheat on Meg?_

_"Meg is high maintenance. She'll notice if I'm not there to take care of her."_

_The other two groaned. "Cassie, please, she doesn't need you to be there all the time! She probably has people from all over Kansas feeding her!"_

_Dean desperately wanted to stay and listen, at least to work out what 'Anna' meant by that, but a streak of red caught the corner of his eye. Charlie was done. She signaled that it was OK to move, and he trusted that she was right._

_They made it out without detection._

 

"Ah, the ol' baby-oil-on-the-toilets thing, huh? Classic!" Ash high-fived Charlie, and they turned it into some long and complex handshake that only the two of them knew. Dean was certain it changed every time.

"Can't wait to see how that works out!" 

"OK, ya idjits, you've had your fun. Back to work!" Bobby yelled from the door of his office. He seemed angry, but Dean could tell he found the prank funny, and was trying to hide a smirk. 

"Yeah, yeah, like he and Rufus don't laugh about this over bad scotch and worse TV each weekend." Kevin grumbled. Rufus was the head of the fire department, and and old friend of Bobby's. 

 

 

It didn't take long for the office to collectively run out of steam. Work had pretty much been completed, and now Benny was throwing peanuts at Ash, seeing how many he could catch in his mouth. Of course, whenever he missed one, he scooped it from the floor and ate it anyway, so they weren't really counting.

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open, but Dean was too preoccupied to care. It was only when a shadow fell over his desk did he notice that the room was silent. He looked up.

"Hello, Dean."

He was here. Fuck. For a second, Dean forgot how to speak. When not covered in soot and sweat, and out of his puke-coloured high-vis uniform, Castiel was handsome. He was tall, but slouched as if he had something to hide. Maybe he did. His dark and untamed hair was a stark contrast to the oceanic blue that gave him an intense stare. His skin was tanned, his arms strong, but he hid it in his rigid posture. Dean was screwed. "Uh, H-Hey, Cas."

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" It was only then when Dean noticed the way that his coworkers were looking over at them both, puzzled expressions and aggressive stances, as if prepped for a surprise attack. 

"Uh...Sure. C'mon." Dean rose from his chair and guided Castiel to the hallway outside. "What, uh...What's up?"

"I wanted to apologize. From what I've heard, Gabriel almost outed you to your coworkers. He shouldn't have said so much. Or...anything at all. I am so sorry."

"Cas, it's OK. It's not a big deal. Sure, I'm not ready to tell them, but I don't think they'd care, really."

"Still, I'm sorry on his behalf. And, uh...well, i wanted to ask," Castiel seemed to run out of steam here, and his gaze fell away. "I wanted to ask, if you would consider going on a date with me, sometime?"

Dean couldn't speak. Fucking  _finally_. He wondered what they'd do. Was Castiel a dinner-and-movie type? Maybe a trip-to-the-park guy? But--

"What about Meg?"

Castiel looked back at him, confused. "What _about_ Meg?"

"Won't, uh, won't she mind if you go out with someone else?"

Castiel stared at him for a few seconds. Well, what was probably a few seconds. To Dean, the close scrutiny in Caastiel's eyes was enough to make the time seem longer. "Dean, you do realize that Meg is my cat, right?"

Suddenly, Dean felt stupid. "Oh." Was all he managed to say, especially when Castiel smirked and snorted.

"I take it, aside from whether or not my cat would be jealous, you have no objections?"

"Uh, n-no, Cas, i'm--I'd love to go on a date with you.  When?"

The smirk became a grin, and the reply came quick. "I'll contact you later, I really should head back to the fire station. Here's my number." With that, Castiel threw him the post-it with a surprisingly feminine scrawl, and turned to descend the stairs.

"Oh, Cas? This, uh...This isn't a prank, is it?" Dean felt his cheeks heat up at the suggestion, but he couldn't quite stamp the doubt completely from his mind.  

Castiel smirked again from his place five stairs below. "You'll have to call it and see, won't you?" 

Damn. He couldn't argue with that. "Uh...Don't use the toilets at the fire station, 'kay?" Was the only thing Dean could think to reply. Because he was coherent like that.

"I wouldn't give any of you the satisfaction." And with that, Cas was out of sight, heavy footsteps, and the green post-it note in Deans hand, the only evidence he was ever there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i sorted out the layout issues, so thats fun.   
> Comment please bcos its the reason i do this


	4. Fights and Pranks and Fridays, Oh, My!

Dean had hardly stepped back into the office before the others were talking to him.

“Winchester! What was that?”

“Is everything OK?”

“Who was that?”

He ignored them, taking his seat behind his desk and staring at the note in his hand. OK. He could do this. Two words. Two, tiny, one-syllable words.

“Whatcha got there, Dean-o?”

What was he thinking? He couldn’t come out now. He had too much going on. What if they were all homophobic, and then he was homeless and hated? What if they saw him differently?

“Uh, n-nothing, guys. Just, some number for a new landlord; he might be able to get me a new place.”

“Sweet, dude!” A chorus of cheers erupted from the assembled group, but Charlie’s disappointed gaze was the only thing he noticed.

*~*~*~*

“Charlie, I messed up. Help me.”

She just hummed.

“Charlie, please.”

“No, Dean.”

“…What?”

Charlie sighed, aggravated. “I’m not going to help you, Dean. You dug yourself into this, you get yourself out. If you keep this up, you’ll end up hurting yourself, maybe even Castiel, and I think it would save you time and effort to just. _Tell. Them.”_

This wasn’t helping. He got up, shoving the remains of his microwave ramen lunch into the nearest trashcan before storming away.

“Hey, Dean, is this the number of that fireman? Or, just someone he knows?”

“Uh, no, that should be his number, why?” Dean was instantly on guard, and his trepidation was apparently well-founded. Benny hit a button on his phone, and the chirping dial tone filled the room.

After a few seconds, Castiel picked up. “Hello?”

Jo spoke up, doing a silly, posh voice. “Hello, sir, my name’s Jo, I’m from Apple. We’re checking the quality of our user’s microphones, and I’m wondering if you have time to help us collect some data? Just a few minutes, please.”

Dean was stuck. He couldn’t speak up, then his co-workers would get suspicious. But if he didn’t stop them, Cas would think he gave them his number to do this.

Damn. He shouldn’t leave things on his desk.

Castiel, after a second or so, replied. “…Yes, I can do that. What do you need?”

Jo grinned, and Benny was visibly trying not to laugh. “Well, sir, if you could just repeat some routine phrases after me so that we can affectively test your phone’s hardware.”

“…Of course.” There was a shuffling sound on Castiel’s side, which cut off abrupty.

“Sir? Can you still hear me?” Jo cast unsure eyes at the others, but when they just shrugged, she smiled again.

“Yes, sorry, go on.”

“Ok. The first phrase I’d like you to say for me is ‘What time is it?’”

Cas repeated the phrase, as well as a few every day ones that Jo rattled off.

“Now, sir, can you repeat the correct version of this statement? Either, ‘The yolk of the egg _is_ white’, or, ‘the yolk of the egg _are_ white’?”

Castiel took a second to reply, “I’m sorry, but egg yolks are updog.”

Jo was obviously thrown off, as were the others. “I’m sorry, sir?”

“I said, egg yolks are updog.”

“I’m afraid I don’t—uh…what’s ‘updog’?” The second the words left her mouth she realized the joke, and gave up, her head hitting the desk lightly.

The reply was muffled snickers from the other side of the phonecall, and a snide, “Not much, what’s up with you?”

               Loud but far away laughter rattled from the speakers, and Castiel carried on. “Before you try that, please check that you are calling an iPhone, not Windows? Nice try, though.” And then he hung up.

               Dean chuckled. “Wow, guys, nice one.” He was relieved that Castiel had taken that so well. He grabbed the post-it and began to type.

 

               _2:34- Hey cas it’s dean. Nice one. Sorry, I tried to stop them_

It took all of five seconds for Castiel to reply.

               _2:34- thank you dean. It’s ok. You can make it up to me when we go on that date ;)_

Dean blushed.

               _2:35- when and where are we going, anyway?_

_2:35- Are you free Friday night? As for where, that’s a surprise_

Dean grinned.

               _2:36- yeah, I’m free. Pick me up at the station, about 6ish?_

_2:36- perfect. See you then :)_

Friday. That gave him two days. And if the date went well, then _maybe_ he’d consider telling them about it.

When he offered this plan to Charlie, she nodded. “Sounds good.” Then she grinned. “But hey, you’ve got a date! _Play-a!_ ” She punched him on the arm affectionately, and he couldn’t banish the smirk.

               “Sure, Char. We’ll see. He could be an asshole, y’know.”

               “He saved you from a burning building, and he has a cat called Meg. He’s not an asshole.”

_Let’s hope so._

*~*~*~*

 

The next two days were the quickest and slowest moments of his life. He wanted to tell them all. He wanted to run away. He wanted to crawl into a bed he didn’t own, in a room that didn’t exist, in a home he’d never have. He longed for something he couldn’t say, couldn’t imagine.

“Hey, Dean, you OK? You’ve been kinda…spacey.” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, Kev, I’m fine. Just…thinking.”

“Well, it’d better be about a case, or I swear, I’ll report you.”

He smirked, throwing in a wink for good measure. “You wouldn’t do that to the best detective in this precinct, wouldya, Kev?”

Benny scoffed. “Sure, brother, OK. But we all know you’ve got a date coming up, and _that’s_ what’s really goin’ on in there? Thinkin’ about your girl, huh?” This was punctuated by a shove to Dean’s head.

               “Sure, guys, whatever, just catch up on paper work, yeah?” Kevin walked off, probably to moan at someone else. Dean just carried on working.

*~*~*~*

 

Friday had arrived. Dean had finished work, and was leaning against the front wall of the precinct. He waved to Benny’s car as it left, as he had done with Charlie’s, and Ash and Jo’s. He checked his phone. 6:30. Cas was late, and with no sign of showing, Dean was ready to give up. Maybe this _had_ been a prank. A tasteless prank, but a prank nonetheless.

               He kicked away from the wall, and started making his way to the bus stop. If Castiel wasn’t going to show, then he may as well pick up the pace on the new apartment search.

               A sort of ugly, beige ‘78 Lincoln Continental pulled upon the sidewalk. The car barely stopped before Castiel hurtled out of the driver’s door.

               “Dean! Dean, wait!” Castiel grabbed his arm, and Dean rolled his eyes.

               “Cas, if you didn’t want to go, then you could have said.”

               “No, Dean, it wasn’t my fault. There was a call, I didn’t have time to contact you. I apologize greatly, I didn’t mean to cause you grief.”

               Dean looked at Cas, the green of his own eyes meeting the blue of the other man’s. He believed him. “OK, but we’re even from the phone prank, yeah? I don’t owe you now?”

               Castiel grinned, and straightened up, brushing imaginary dust from the cuffs of his long, tan coat. “Of course. I was only saving people’s lives, but absolutely, your evening comes first. I should have realized.”

               The utter seriousness with which this was conveyed made Dean snort. Castiel looked relieved. Evidently, dead-pan humour was something that didn’t always go down well. They made their way back to Castiel’s car, Dean sliding into the passenger side.

               “So, Columbo, where to?”

               Cas smirked. “I thought _you_ were the detective.”              

               “Damn right I am; best detective in all o’ Kansas, if not all America!”

               “And yet you haven’t worked out where we’re going.”

               Dean was stuck for a reply, so settled on looking out of the window. “Well,” he murmured, after a few moments, “we’re headed towards the zoo. But, on weekdays, that closes at five, so not there. The only restaurants in that part of town are tourist-y ones, and since you live in Kansas, I doubt we’d go there. There are museums around here, though. I’d pin you as an artsy person, because you had purple paint on your uniform the first time we met. So, art gallery?”

               Castiel was silent. “Damn, you are good. Wrong, but good. Close, though. We are going to a kind of museum. But the purple paint on my uniform came from when _someone_ decided to put a pool of dyed foam under the fireman’s pole at the station. Tell me, detective, who would have done that?”

               _Ah_. Dean had forgotten that one. “OK, so where are we goin’, then?”

               The car pulled into a car park, and Cas put the car in park. “This is part one. Dean, you’ve never been to the planetarium, have you?”


	5. The One With The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas go on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for comments and kudos, you're all great. I won't be able to update for a few days, so sorry, but i'll be back soon! if there's any need for TWs, tell me please!

The planetarium was amazing. As was Castiel. They talked about everything and nothing; from annoying siblings, to Star Trek (Dean vowed to expose Castiel to the entire saga, to which Castiel readily agreed. _Point one for Cas: nerdy_.) They made up their own stupid constellations and learnt about how a year on Mercury is only 88 days long. That sparked a conversation about how old they would be if they lived closer to the Sun.

               “So, like, you’re, what, 28?”

               “27, last month, actually.” Castiel smiled at him.

               “OK, so, three-six-five divided by 88, is, what…” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened the calculator, punching in the sum, “four-point-one-five-ish? Times twenty-seven, that’s,” punching in the sum again, “Woah, dude, you’d be 111 and a half!”

               “Ah, they say 111 and a half is when life really begins.”

               Dean snorted, ( _point two for Cas: funny,)_ and typed in his own age. 99.5. When he tells Castiel this, Castiel says that he’s unsure if that is an appropriate age gap for them to continue seeing each other.

               “Good thing we’re not on Mercury then, huh?” They laugh together, and Dean feels _right._

*~*~*

“So then, Cas, are we eating on this date? Or do I have to call Charlie and tell her to heat up some leftovers?”

               “As appealing as that sounds, I actually did have plans for dinner. The places we’re going are on the way to the car.”

               “Places?”

               “Patience, young grasshopper.” Castiel smirked at him. They exited the Planetarium and walked a block before Castiel stopped outside a tiny square shop. Dean wouldn’t have noticed it if he was on his own.

               “This is the first place,” Castiel pulled him inside. “I wasn’t sure what type of food you liked, so I planned to go to my three favourite restaurants, one for each course. This is a Thai restaurant. Is that OK?” ( _Point three and four: considerate and fun.)_

               “Uh, I’ve never had Thai food, actually.”

               At this, Castiel grinned. “Wonderful. Of course, we’re only having a starter, but if you enjoy it, we’ll have to come back together and try something else.” He winked. _Point five: smooth. Oh, God, Dean was screwed._

               The two were sat by a waitress at a table near the door, and Castiel murmured something to her. She obviously knew him, because she grinned and gave him a thumbs-up before scampering away.

               “What was that?”

               “Oh, nothing,” but Castiel was grinning in a way which suggested he knew something Dean didn’t. This was reinforced when a few minutes later, the waitress returned with a huge plate of mixed starters. Everything from spring rolls and chicken satay to some battered things that Dean probably wouldn’t be able to pronounce. While they ate, they talked about their childhood.

               “Yeah, when mom died, dad took it pretty hard. He was in a rough patch for most of my life. I had to raise my brother, Sam. But sorry, you haven’t unlocked my tragic backstory yet, I’m afraid.”

               Castiel chuckled once, but it was hollow. “I’m sorry to hear that, but you evidently did an excellent job, if he’s at Stanford, right?” _And a good listener, too._ Dean had never been one for clichés, but Cas was straight out of a YA novel.

               “S-so, what was Gabriel like, growing up?”

               “Dean, if you’re asking me that for blackmail material for a future prank, please be aware that Gabriel has no shame, and will turn anything into a brag. He was…Well, he’s always been not dissimilar to how he remains. A pain, but a sometimes-helpful one.”

               They talked until the plate was empty, and Cas footed the bill, much to Dean’s protest.

               “Please, Dean, you can pay for the next one.” Castiel smirked, leading the way out of the Thai place and towards the next restaurant.

 

               It turned out to be and Italian one. It was pleasant, and they talked about their dream place to live. Castiel’s was Hogwarts. They talked about favourite songs. They even discussed who the best Disney princess was, because Dean was just about ready to discuss anything if it bought him more time like this.

               The dessert place was Japanese, and they had Banana Katsu which, admittedly, Dean was reluctant to try, but had actually turned out to be pretty good.

 

               By the time Castiel’s ugly car pulled up outside Charlie’s apartment, Dean was so smitten, it was pathetic. In a feeble attempt to save face, he gave Castiel his best smirk. “I…I enjoyed tonight. Thank you.”

               “It was my pleasure. We’ll have to do it again, yes?”

               “Yeah. I’ll call you this time, though?”

               Castiel nodded, and Dean got out, but not before planting a chaste kiss to Cas’ cheek. He didn’t miss the red stain to the firefighter’s cheeks either, which gave him a small sense of satisfaction. “Bye, Cas.”

               “Goodbye, Dean.”

               In a few seconds, the car was gone.

 

Charlie was asleep when he got in, so he shuffled quietly around the place getting ready to sleep. He dreamt about a blue-eyed angel, pulling him from Hellfire.

 

*~*~*~*

               The elevator pinged, the door slid open, and Dean wiped his palms on his jeans. Charlie got settled at her desk, but he kept standing, near the door.

               “Uh, guys? I’ve…I need to tell you all something.”

Suddenly, six pairs of eyes were on him, and everything seemed more difficult. Welp, no backing out now. “Uh, I’m…I’m bisexual.”


	6. Envelopes, Fights, and Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a bad day, a good night, and a terrible morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back
> 
> At school tomorrow, so chapters will be slower. sorry.
> 
> TWs: Alcohol, but not much? IDK if there's anything else, but if there is, leave me a comment and I'll add to it!   
> Leave me a comment anyway, I love comments! Thank you to everyone who's left such wonderful encouragement, i love it and i love u guys, gals, and nb pals :)

There was silence. Dean couldn’t look up, but he could feel their eyes on him. Hate-filled gazes that made his skin crawl. He should just walk out, he needed to et some air, he couldn’t-

               “No shit, Sherlock.” Ash’s amused tone broke Dean out of his self-loathing inner monologue.

               “Wh-what?”

               “We’re detectives, Dean, you thought we didn’t know?” Jo’s smile was patient and supportive.

               “How…oh.”

               Kevin flashed him an awkward smile. “Sorry, Dean, but you’re not exactly subtle.”

               Suddenly, Dean felt stupid. These people were his friends. Of course they’d accept him. He should have trusted them. “Oh. Uhm,” he cleared his throat, trying to keep his slight humiliation as invisible as possible, and took his seat at his desk. “Thanks, guys.”

               He expected them to go back to work, as they had done before Dean’s interruption. Instead, Charlie smirked. “So, Casanova, how was last night’s big date?”

               A chorus of shrill and not-at-all-serious ‘ooooh!’s erupted, and Dean was back to longing the Earth would devour him on the spot.

               “Date?”

               “Oh! I _bet_ it was the firefighter!”

               A scandalized gasp. “No! You traitor!”

               “Aww, it’s like Romeo and Juliet all over again!”

Dean groaned and failed to prevent himself rolling his eyes. “Guys, please. Stop being so dramatic.”

               “Says Mr. ‘Comes-out-before-breakfast-in-the-most-telanovela-way-possible’. But we’re right, right? You went on a date with the firefighter who pulled your ass from your old place, yeah?”

               When he didn’t answer, Charlie did. “His name is _Castiel_. And he’s _totally dreamy!_ ” She mimed swooning in the most ‘1920’s helpless heroine’ type fashion she could.

“I hate you all.”

Ash ruffled his hair and dumped some food in front of him. “Nah, you don’t. But does this mean you can’t prank them, anymore?”

               “No, I don’t think Cas takes that too seriously. Besides, we’ve only been out once. I’m not _that_ whipped.”

               “Yeah, right,” Charlie mumbled. 

               Deciding against dignifying anything else with comments, he began to work on his latest paperwork. He’d been in fairly good game recently; making arrests and succeeding in weedling a confession from the perps landing him in the good books. Unfortunately, keeping criminals off the streets involved a _lot_ of paperwork. Ugh.

               Thankfully, he was saved. The elevator doors opened, revealing a lanky, sort of awkward guy, no older than 19, in FedEx gear and a name tag that read ‘Alfie’.

               “Uh, I have a delivery for,” he checked the top of the tick envelope in his hand, “D-Dean Winchester?”

               He stood, and grinned smugly to the others as he passed them. Deliveries weren’t that rare in the precinct, but getting them meant you could pretend to be more popular than the others when they arrived. He accepted the package, giving a quick thanks to Alfie, and reclaiming his desk.

               “Whatcha got there, loverboy?” Benny grinned.

               Dean considered the envelope. The address of the precinct, preceded by his name, were printed, not handwritten. That meant it was probably spam. Still, it was strange. Who would send him something at the office? Why not at his apartment? It had to be from someone who knew what had happened. Sammy? Sam knew he was staying at Charlie’s, but Dean doubted he could recall the address offhand.

               The back of the plastic envelope was sealed, and had to be ripped to be opened. He tore into the package, forcing the plastic open.

 

 

Suddenly, there was glitter. Everywhere. His desk, his chair, his clothes, _him_. Blue, pink, and red glitter. He didn’t miss that those colours made up the bisexual pride flag. Since he opened the package sitting down, a considerable amount had tipped onto his crotch. Fucking _wonderful_.

 

It took a few seconds for anyone to react. They were just staring, as if theor brains were registering what had just happened. Then, someone started to giggle. That set them all off. A pack of hyenas would have been quieter, and he was pretty sure Jo was crying.

               “I really do hate you _all_. You’re all traitors. Worse than…than…fucking, I don’t know. You’re terrible.” This just made them laugh more. He realized it was a feeble attempt, but it didn’t help his ego. He opened the package again, pulling out the letter included in the bag. Opening it just released more glitter; this time the tiny, shiny, annoying grains just went on the floor. Printed on the paper was one paragraph in simple black lettering.

               “ _Shipyourenemiesglitter.com_

_The OG Glitter Bomb+Double The Glitter, Double The Mess!_

_Dean,_

_If you hurt my brother, I’ll string you up like a Pride flag and paint you like a rainbow._

_Hugs and kisses,_

_Gabriel~_

_~Xoxox~”_

Of-fucking-course.

               “Hey, Dean!” Reflexively, he looked up. Then regretted it. A snap of a camera went off, and Charlie grinned. “Defo saving _that_ one for the album! I might stick it up ‘round here, actually! To celebrate Dean Winchester getting his head out of his ass and coming out!”

               He flipped her off. She took another photo.

               *~~*~*

He never did clear up all the glitter, and was still finding it on himself eight hours later.

               They’d gone out, the lot of them, to the nearest bar. Even Bobby came along, and despite his grumpy-old-man ways, he’d chuckled at the photo of Dean, flipping off the camera while covered in glitter.

               Apart from the teasing, and the nicknames, and the jibes, it was a great night. Dean got drunker than a soccer mom at New Years, and began, with Ash’s help, to plan revenge. The plan was a good one, at least, to their drunken minds. After Benny had to go home, and Jo and Bobby went their separate ways, Ash, Charlie, and Dean got to implementing their master scheme.

 

               As it turned out from a quick google search, stink bombs are surprisingly easy to make. Most of the ingredients were spread around either in Ash’s or Charlie’s apartments, or were easy to acquire from the closest convenience store. So, alcohol still flowing like water, they began to work. After a quick drive round the fire department, Dean crashed out on Charlie’s sofa, like he’d done for the past week, and was out like a light.

*~*~*~*

The next morning was a nightmare.

               He woke with a headache that felt like a thousand…something. He was too hungover to think of similes. Metaphors? S..something…?

               Charlie emerged, in much the same state as him. She had coffee for both of them, but with a mouth as dry as his he didn’t think anything would help. She tossed him an aspirin, before downing one herself. “Note to self: Don’t get shitfaced on a work night.”

               “Shaddup, Charles.” He trudged to the bathroom, and in half an hour, they left.

               As it turned out, most of the people in the Lawrence precinct that day were in the same state. Most, because Bobby seemed well enough to yell at them, which apparently, served them right.

That wasn’t the only yelling that day, though, nor was it the worst.

At 9:00AM, on the dot, the elevator pinged _way_ louder than it normally did, he was sure, and a raging tornado of puke-coloured uniform topped with black hair burst in.

               “What the _fuck_ was that?!” Castiel screamed at the room in general. Every hangover victim in the room, and probably in the city, flinched. “I thought you knew the boundaries. I _thought_ you were all supposed to have at least a _minute_ amount of sense! You are _OFFICERS OF THE LAW, after all! Instead, I come in this morning, and apparently a Chemical Weapon has been set off! That fucking stink bomb was wrong! It not only exploded, but burned through a lot of expensive equipment! Someone got hurt, BADLY! I don’t fucking care whose fucking idea it was, but that was TOO! FAR!”_

               Immediately, there was a reaction.

“Oh, my god.”

“It wasn’t us!”

“Who got hurt? Are they OK?”

Dean stood up. “It was my fault. Well, me an’,” he threw a glance at Ash and Charlie, who nodded, “me, Ash and Charlie. I’m so sorry, Cas, we were pretty drunk, and it was a stupid mistake. It’s just, that glitter thing really got me, man, and—”

               Though his speech, he didn’t realize that Castiel had stalked closer to him. It was only when Castiel was right in front of him, practically breathing the same air, that Dean realized just how bad this was. “Listen to me, Dean Winchester. Glitter is not as bad as a headwound, understand? You’re lucky Hannah was wearing a helmet. Balthazar, however, wasn’t so lucky. He’s just come out of the ER. _Thankfully_ , no thanks to you, he’s only got a few bandages to show for it. But if you think that’s acceptable, then I don’t think we should see each other, anymore.”

               With that, not even giving him a chance to defend himself, not that he really could, Castiel left Dean standing in the middle of the office, alone. Someone swore. Dean ran after him, catching up just outside the building.

               “Cas! Cas, wait, please! I’m so sorry, it was a huge mistake, if I could take it back, I would, man, I’m so sorry!”

               Cas span, and Dean nearly bumped into him. “Well, you can’t. If I listened to everyone who said they wished they could take something back, I’d still be with—”

               He cut off, instantly running out of steam. It was as if his next words had got stuck in his throat, and after a few seconds, he looked away, and sighed.

               “…Listen, Cas, I-”

               “Castiel. My name is Castiel. Not ‘ _Cas’_ , not _‘Cassie’_ , _‘Castiel’._ ”

               “…Castiel, then. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Really, you have to believe me-”

               “I don’t have to do anything.”

               “ _Please_ , believe me. I’m begging you. It was meant to be harmless, it was a bad idea, a mistake, God, I could rattle off any number of excuses, but what I wanna say is: I’m _sorry_. Please. _Please_. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a goddamn long time, Castiel, and…god, I can’t lose you. I know we’ve only been out once, but, I really _like_ you. I’m sorry. If you can’t forgive me, though, I…I guess I get it. I…I’ll see you around, Castiel. Goodbye.” He turned, head hung low, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

               “I…I believe you, Dean. I believe that you’re sorry. But Balthazar is one of my best friends. I was so scared, and—well. I…I forgive you. But if you _ever_ do _anything_ like that again…This is your last chance.”

               Relief flooded him. “Oh, God, thank you, Castiel. Thank you, I mean it. I won’t waste it.”

               “…You can call me Cas.” His voice was quiet, but those five words spoke everything.

               “Thanks, Cas. Uh…Can…Do you wanna…can I see you, tomorrow night? My treat?”

               Castiel’s smile was so small, anyone might have missed it. Dean didn’t. “OK. Tomorrow. Text me the specifics.”

               “Of course.”

Cas let go of his arm, slightly awkwardly. Like he’d forgotten his hand was there. The firefighter turned, and in a few seconds, his ugly puke-coloured uniform slid into his ugly puke-coloured car, and was gone. He didn’t look back.

 

The next day, Balthazar’s locker was full of flowers from the police department, as well as a signed get well soon card and a gift voucher for his favourite store.


	7. Second Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean plans the second date, and gets some news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooaaahhh, ANOTHER chapter! I'm spoiling you!
> 
> TWs: None that see, but as always, tell me if you disagree!
> 
> Thank you for commenting, you people are too nice to me :)
> 
> EDIT: So, i've changed the ending of this chapter, just marginally. The first one was awful, i apologize. Is it any better now?

_When Dean got back into the station, there was still a guilty silence hanging in the air._

_Charlie spoke up, but it was hushed. “Hey Dean. I’m sorry...Was Cas…I mean, you’re still together, right?”_

_“Just about. We have a date tomorrow, and it’s my last chance. If I fuck up, he says he’ll leave. I don’t blame him, to be fair, though.”_

_“Well,” Benny smiled, though it was still a bit forced, “we’d better help you make this the most amazing date in all of romantic history, huh, brother?”_

 

That was yesterday, and Dean still had no ideas. Shit.

               “You could always just go see a movie. I hear the new Batman’s pretty good.” Charlie sighed.

               “Char, this is supposed to be the best date ever. How am I gonna top the last one with a movie?”

               “Fine, the go bowling! I’m sorry, Dean, but although I’m happy for you, there’s only so much I can listen to.”

               He sighed, and turned to the computer. The cursor blinked in the search bar, waiting impatiently for him to come up with an idea. Blink. Blink.

               Lightning struck. He followed the whisper of the idea through his head. Yeah, that could work…

               “I need to talk to Bobby real quick. Can you ask Ash if I can borrow his projector?”

               “What’re you planning?” Charlie smirked. He just winked, and sauntered in to Bobby’s office.

*~*~*

Bobby was surprisingly easy to sway. Dean left the office fifteen minutes later, the keys to the precinct in his pocket. He pulled out his phone, and opened the chat with Castiel.

_2:43- Hey Cas, r we still on 4 2nite?_

Ash grinned at him knowingly, “I’ll bring the projector to Charlie’s at 6, yeah?”

Dean was about to reply when his phone buzzed in his hand.

_2:46- Mr Winchester, the keys to your new place are ready to be collected. You can move in when you pick them up!_

Shit. That was quick.

He’d put in an offer for a tiny studio place, a few blocks from the precinct. He hadn’t expected it to be accepted, but the landlord had evidently taken pity on him. He wasn’t too happy about that, but hey, whatever got him off of Charlie’s couch. His new stuff, replaced by the insurance company, was being held in a nearby storage locker, as well as a slightly singed photo album.

“Yeah, Ash that’s cool. Hey man, look!” He showed the other detective the address, and Ash whooped. The news quickly spread, and in a few minutes they were congratulating him on his no-longer-homelessness.

~*~*~*~

_3:14- Hello Dean, sorry, I was on call. Yes, tonight is still on. When and where?_

_3:15- that’s great Cas, everything OK? I’ll pick u up @ urs, 7ish? I got a new place :)_

_3:16- That’s wonderful, Dean! 7 is good, I’ll text u my address. Everything’s fine, thank u :)_

Castiel didn’t live too far away, which meant he had had time to prepare. At 6:35, everyone had gone home, and he’d gotten changed at Charlie’s. He jumped into the Impala, checking that the projector, console, and discs were in the backseat. Then he set off to the address Cas had sent him.

The drive was easy, miraculously, and Castiel was waiting outside when he pulled up. “Hello Dean. Apparently I have a better TV to watch Dr. Sexy on, so Gabe saw fit to eject me from my own home. How are you?” the firefighter settled in the passenger seat, smiling at him.

               “I’m great Cas, thanks. Ready?” When Cas nodded, they turned around, and drove back to the precinct.

               “Why are we here, Dean?”

               “It’s a surprise. Here, unlock the door?” Dean offered him the key, picking up the box from the back. Cas nodded, and did so, holding it for Dean.

               They wove through the office. It was eerie at night; completely empty of its usual chatter and commotion. “Uh, I’ll meet you on the roof yeah?” He rested the box on Charlie’s desk, picking up the three extension leads she’d left. He shoved one into the mains, switching it on, and tugged it as far as it would go up the stairs of the fire escape, then repeated it, slowly climbing the stairs. Castiel was up on the roof, standing awkwardly in the middle. Dean couldn’t help the flip flop his stomach did when Cas turned and smiled at him, despite his evident confusion.

               “What are we doing, Dean?”

               Instead of answering, Dean gently dropped the box, plugging in the projector and pulling it as far as he could, firing up the console and handing Cas a controller.

               “Ever play MarioKart on the side of a building?”

               “I…I’ve never played it…”

               “I can teach ya. But I won’t go easy.”

 

As it turned out, Castiel was a natural at MarioKart. Or he was cheating. How, Dean wasn’t sure, but no human could get through Rainbow Road and only fall off twice.

               “Yeah, OK, Cas, no need to rub it in.” Dean grumbled when Cas won another race, pushing the tally to Dean, three, Cas, five. “First to seven.”

               “You said that last time, Dean. I’m beginning to think you’re a glutton for punishment.” Castiel smiled, but pressed Continue.

 

Dean actually one a few after that.

The score was six all. The deciding race. Dean cracked his back, and hunkered over his controller. Cas chuckled. “You know, the foreplay is nothing is you don’t intend to finish first.”

               The innuendo made Dean flinch, just as the race began. He drove straight off the road. “Fuck!”

               Castiel barked in laughter, and rounded the first bend. He was in second, and got a blue shell. First place was his almost instantly. For now.

               But Dean was catching up. After the little cloud-tortoise thing had dropped him onto the road, he surged forward, picking up a Bullet Bill powerup and dashing into third. Second. He was so close, but Castiel was still far ahead. They stayed like that for two laps.

Then Dean became desperate. His competitive streak flared, and he knew what he had to do. Shuffling closer to Cas, he leaned over…

And captured Castiel’s lips with his own.

Then overbalanced, and fell on top of him.

They fit together like puzzle pieces, as cheesy as it sounded. The game lay forgotten, but the fireworks on the screen, which not only framed the situation perfectly, announced that somebody had won.

               Castiel pulled away, and Dean moved. For a second, Castiel looked…troubled. Hurt? Something, something that Dean couldn’t quite place, in his kiss-clouded brain.

               “Uh…s-sorry.” He looked back at the screen. “But I won.”

               “Cas blinked, as if only just remembering there was a game. “Did…did you only kiss me to win?”

               “At first. Then it was fun.” Dean smirked. Cas kicked him lightly.

               “Impudence. Winner buys dinner, yes?” Castiel grinned. Dean made a show of rolling his eyes, then got up, offering Cas his hand and pulling him up.

               “Sure. C’mon, help me pack up.”

               They packed up, stealing quick kisses and smiles as they did so. Dean left the box full of things on his desk to deal with tomorrow.

               “I’ll meet you in the car, I just have to use the bathroom.”

               “OK, it’s the first door on the left sown there.” Dean nodded towards the corridor and grinned, leaving for the car.

               Castiel emerged a few minutes later, and Dean handed him a hotdog. “There was a food truck across the street, I got you this. Hope it’s OK.”

               “It’s wonderful, thank you Dean.”

               “Do you…Do you want to see my new place?”

               “I’d like that.”

*~*~*

“It’s…cosy.”

“Cas, it’s _tiny_.”

“I like it. It feels a species short though. Maybe you should get a cat.”

Dean smirked. “I’m allergic.”

Cas hummed. “Then we should break up.” But then he turned and grinned at Dean, to show that he didn’t really mean it. Dean chuckled once.

               “Don’t’ joke about that.”

               “Sorry.” Cas’ face fell marginally, so Dean bumped him on the shoulder and pulled a funny face. Cas laughed.

               “Hey, Cas?”

               “Yes, Dean?”

              “My brother and his girlfriend are coming into town in a few days; they’re on holiday from college and they want to help me move my stuff in here, and I was wondering, do you want to, y’know, go on a double date with them? I’m not one for stuffy posh ‘meeting-the-family’ type thing, but…”

               “You want me to meet your family? That isn’t too fast for you?”

               “Well, it’s only my annoying little brother. It doesn't have to be official, or anything, just some food...”

               “…That’s a lie, Dean. You think the world of your brother, I know you do. I’d be honoured to meet someone so important to you.”

“…Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“…Thanks.”

Castiel smiled, and leant forward. Dean closed the gap.

_Fear._

Dean flinched, and moved back. “You were scared. Just for a second, but you were, earlier, when I kissed you and won the game. I couldn't place it, before.”

A flurry of emotions battled in Cas’s eyes and on his face. Confusion, _fear_ , embarrassment, _fear,_ guilt, _fear_. “I…I, uh…” Suddenly, he seemed to clog up. Freeze. His chest shook, and he hung his head.

“Cas, please. I’m not gonna…if this is about the stink bomb thing, I said I was sorry, and I didn't mean to hurt anyone—”

“It’s not. I should be apologising. It’s not about you. I’m overreacting. It’s fine. It’s just…uh…I guess I have some stuff to work through. I guess…You’re not the only one with, how did you put it…a ‘tragic backstory’.” He looked back to Dean, smiling. It was wholly forced, and Dean could tell. And it broke his heart.

               “What…What happened? You can talk to me, you know that, right?”

               “Yes, I know. Thank you, Dean, but it’s in the past. No need to bring up old ghosts. I’ll get over it.”

               “Cas, that’s not—”

               “Dean, I’m fine. Really. I…” Cas sighed, looking away again, “I should go. Gabe said he’d wait up, and it’s getting late.”

               “Oh…Let me get my keys.”

               “No, Dean, I can get the bus.”

               “Cas, what kind of guy would I be if I just let you make your own way back home after a date I asked you on? C’mon, man, lemme drive.”

Castiel seemed to consider his question for a few seconds, then nodded. “...Thank you.”

 

They drove in silence, Castiel looking out of the passenger side window. He smiled at Dean as they pulled up outside of his home. “Thank you for tonight. It was nice, even if you did cheat in MarioKart.”

Dean snorted. “You loved it.”

“Sure, Dean. Call me when Sam arrives?”

“’Course. Bye, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”


	8. Double Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam arrives, with Jess in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments, i love reading what you think :)
> 
> TWs: There's a tiny panic attack, that's...it? Maybe? Tell me to add anything.

“And then he sorta…freaked out a bit. Like, he suddenly had to get home. I think I messed up, Sammy.”

               “Don’t worry, Dean, he’ll tell you when he’s ready. You _have_ only known each other for a few weeks.”

               “Yeah, I guess, but…” Dean sighed heavily, effectively summing up his myriad of emotions. “When’s your ETA?”

               “Uh, about 2 hours. We’re just boarding now. Jess says ‘hey’.” He’d met Jess a few times, for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and she seemed nice. Good for Sam.

               “Tell ‘er hey back. Thanks to both of ya for doin’ this.”

               “Dean, you’re my brother, it’s my job. Jess wants to visit her parents anyway, and we both want to meet the man who _finally_ got _you_ to come out!”

               “Yeah, yeah, Sammy, whatever, see you soon,” Dean grumbled before hanging up. He’d arranged to meet them at the airport and bring them to his new apartment, then they were meeting Castiel at The Roadhouse for dinner. He hoped Ellen didn’t do The Thing that she did, whenever he brought someone on a date there. Last time, she’d sent Jo to sit in the neighbouring booth as recon. The one and only downside to having an aunt that owned the best burger place in town.

               He sighed again, his mind turning back to Castiel. He pulled out his phone again.

_10:43- Hey Cas, u ok? Still on 4 lunch?_

_10:44- Hello Dean. Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Sorry for last night. Thank you for being so patient with me. Lunch is still on, I’ll be at the Roadhouse at 1:00, see you then_

               Good. So, they’d have lunch, come back to Dean’s apartment, and start moving stuff in. Right now, there was a two-seater couch pressed up against a far wall, and mountains of boxes. Four tubs of paint sat on some of the boxes nearest the door.

               What can he do for two hours?

 

As it turned out, if you’re bored enough, anything can entertain you for a couple hours. Dean ended up playing the little dinosaur game on the ‘no internet’ screen of Google until 12:00. Then he left, driving to the airport in record time.

               He stood near the Arrivals gate, tapping his foot impatiently. Some other people stood near him, in small scattered groups, waiting for their partners or siblings or friends. Some of them were standing on tiptoes, swaying back and forth to try and see over the heads of the people flooding into the airport. Dean didn’t need to do this. Not with Sammy, who’d had his growth spurt at age 14 and didn’t stop growing until he was 6’4.

               The Samsquatch revealed himself, Jess’ tiny blonde form pottering after him. The two of them were laughing together, Sam cradling a duffel bag and Jess tugging a pink/purple trundle case. The brothers made eye contact and mirrored each other’s grins.

               “Sammy! Get over here!” Dean couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as he pulled first Sam, then Jess into a hug. “Hey, Jess. How’s things in Cali?”

               “Hot. There’s a heatwave going on.”

               “But, when isn’t there?” Sam chuckled.

               “How’s Stanford?” Dean began to lead the couple towards the Impala as they spoke, eager to get to the roadhouse.

               “Uh, Stanford is good. How’s the station? The prank thing still goin’?”

               Dean chuckled. “’Course. We’re waitin’ on them to make the next move.”

               “And what about your boyfriend?” Jess giggled.

               “He’s not really my boyfriend, yet. We’ve just been on a few dates.”

               “You like him, though, don’t you?” Jess wiggled her eyebrows jokingly, dropping her case in the Impala’s trunk.

               “Yeah, yeah, princess, sorry, but this ain’t a chick-flick.”

               They took their seats in the car, Jess in the back and Sam in the passenger seat. The short drive to the apartment was filled with laughter and teasing. After a quick tour of the apartment, made quicker by the fact that everything was still boxed up. They freshened up, and were back in the car after a handful of minutes, were on their way to Sam and Jess’ motel, the closest one to the apartment. They booked them in, dropped off their stuff, and booked it to the Roadhouse.

*~*~~*

Castiel’s Lincoln Continental was parked outside when they pulled up. Dean manoeuvred the Impala into the space next to it. Jess was the first one out; she was practically bouncing with excitement.

               “Calm down, Blondie. Cas won’t disappear if you wait for me to park.”

               Jess giggled, and Sam rolled his eyes. “You never know Dean, you’ve had relationships shorter than this. Your average is about one night. Who knows, Castiel might pull that up.”

               “Yeah, Sammy, well, screw you too.” Dean grinned, taking any bite out of the insult, and led the others into the restaurant.

 

               Despite the (rather colourfully) boisterous patrons of the Roadhouse’s more than accommodating bar, Dean’s eyes flew straight to the dark muss of hair huddled into a trenchcoat, inspecting the questionable art on the walls from his seat in a far booth.

               “Cas!” He called. Usually, he wouldn’t be that loud indoors, but the Roadhouse brought that out of anyone who walked through the whiskey-infused air. Castiel turned, and not for the first time Dean was floored by the blue of his eyes. Like oceans. Apt, for someone who put out fires. Castiel smiled, and stood.

               “Hello, Dean.” Cas leant in, giving him a chaste kiss, before turning to Dean’s brother. “You must be Sam. I’ve heard so much about you.” He offered his hand, which Sam shook, and Jess enveloped him in a hug, which quite obviously caught him by surprise, but he responded well to. “And of course, Jessica. Pleased to meet you.”

               “Please, call me Jess!” She gave him a megawatt grin and they slid into their seats, Dean next to Sam, and opposite Castiel. “So, how’re things going, Castiel?”

               They talked for a few minutes, before Ellen appeared. “Hey, Dean! Haven’t seen you around here in a while, boy, what, does it take your house burnin’ down before I get a visit?”

               “Uh…Sorry, Ellen, I’ve been kinda busy.”

               “That’s no excuse, Dean, an’ you know it. Hey, Sam, how’s Stanford?”

               Sam smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Ellen, I meant to call. Stanford’s great, thanks. This is my girlfriend, Jess. Jess, this is Ellen, our…kinda adoptive mother.”

               Jess beamed at Ellen, and shook her hand. “Please to meet you.”

               Ellen smiled, her stern façade falling away like leaves in autumn. “And you too, hun. Who’s this?” She turned to Castiel, who smiled nervously.

               “Uh, Ellen, this…this is Castiel. He’s…uh, we’re dating.”

               If this was a surprise, Ellen didn’t show it. “Pleased to meetcha, Castiel. What’re y’all orderin’?”

               “Burger, please, Ellen.” Dean grinned.

               “I coulda guessed that, buddy. I also know that Sam’s gonna get a chicken salad, right?” Sam nodded and handed her the menu he’d been looking through, totally for appearances. “What about you, Jess?”

               “Uhm, I’ll have the Avocado toast, please.”

               Ellen scribbled a note on her paper, and pointed her pen at Castiel. “And for you?”

               “Uhm…I’ll just have what Dean’s having, thank you.” Castiel offered an awkward smile, glancing at Dean, who smirked.

               Ellen smiled, and marched back into the kitchen.

Their food came quick, and the four of them laughed as they ate.

“Ugh, this food is amazing!” Jess grinned.

“I don’t think I can finish this.” Castiel agreed.

“We can ask for a box, you can eat it later.” Dean reasoned.

“Dude, you’re gonna let Cas have food in your car? You don’t even let _me_ bring food in there.” Sam grinned disbelievingly. He turned to Cas. “He must really like you!”

Cas blushed, as did Dean. “Sammy, I don’t let you eat in my car ‘cause you get your gross leaves all over Baby’s leather.”

Sam just nodded sarcastically. “Oh, yeah, sure, Dean. OK.” Then he winked at Jess, who laughed conspiratorially.

Castiel blushed harder. Thankfully, Ellen interrupted with the bill, and the four hightailed it to their cars.

Dean tossed Sam the keys to the Impala. “You take ‘er. Follow Cas’ car if you don’t know the way.”

“Sure, Dean, or I could use Google maps.”

               Dean mimicked his brother mockingly, and slid into the passenger side of Castiel’s car.

               “Dean, I know the way, you don’t have to guide me.” Cas smirked.

               “I know, Cas, but I wanted to talk to you real quick.” The Impala drove off, but the continental stayed for a few seconds more before pulling out of the parking lot. “Cas, I wanted to ask you something.”

               “Yes, Dean?”

               “Will…Well, uh, yknow, when I introduced you to Ellen?”

               “Yes, Dean, I was there.”

               Dean chuckled. “Yeah. Uh, I really wanted to… Well, I wanted to tell her you were my boyfriend.”

               Castiel was silent.

               “Cas?”

               “…Can I think about this?”

               Well. That wasn’t the reply he wanted. “What’s there to think about, man? It’s a yes/no question, I mean—”

               “Dean, please. I need…I can’t…” Castiel sighed. “I like you. I do. But I don’t know if I’m ready right now to…No, that’s wrong. I don’t know if I can. Just please, give me a few hours to think.”

               Dean huffed, and turned to look out the wndow. “Fine. Sure, whatever.”

 

They arrived at Dean’s apartment, and Dean stalked out of the car, unlocking the doors for Sam and Jess, leaving Castiel in the car. Cas stared after him, and pulled out his phone.

*~~*~*~*~

_“Balthazar, can you talk?”_

_“Always, Cassie, what’s up?”_

_“Dean’s asked me to be his boyfriend.”_

_“…and?”_

_“And?! What do I say?”_

_“Usually, yes, if you like him, Caiise.” Balthazar sounded confused._

_“How can I say yes? After Ali-A-” Cas’ vision fogged. His breath caught. He couldn’t speak, but his throat was burning._

_“Breathe, Cassie, please. He’s gone. Dean isn’t like him, and you know it.”_

_“Neither was…Neither was_ he _like that, at the start.”_

_“Trust me Cassie, you and your boyfriend are gonna be fine.”_

_“How can you know that? What if I mess up? What if Dean gets bored or something?”_

_“You like him, and that’s all that matters. Besides, you’ve already decided.”_

_“…What?”_

_“Cas, I just called Dean your boyfriend, and you didn’t object at all.”_

_“...oh.” Cas felt cold. Then he grinned. “Thank you, Balthazar.”_

*~*~*~

Dean sorted through his box, all but throwing spoons into the newly-designated cutlery draw. “And then, Sammy, he just said,” Dean turned to his brother, speaking in a gravelly tone that mimicked Cas’ voice, “’I need to think.’ What’s there to think about! What does that even mean?!”

               “Dean,” Sam sighed, shoving DVD after DVD into the case. “It means he needto to think. You don’t know what’s going on in his head unless he tells you or you _ask_.”

               Jess nodded, handing first Dean, then Sam, coffee mugs, sipping from her own tea. “Sam’s right, Dean. It sounds like he might have been though some stuff. Maybe you just need to be patient.”

               There was an urgent knock at the door, like whoever was on the other side was on fire. Or seriously needed to piss. Dean sighed, and tugged the door open. Cas landed in his arms, planting a kiss on his lips, grabbing his shirt under the back of his jacket. He pulled back, grinning sheepishly, and whispered, “I’m sorry, Dean. I’d love to be your boyfriend, if you’ll still let me.”

               Dean sighed, and smirked. “I’m really glad Sam didn’t answer the door.”

Cas laughed, and the other two groaned, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psst...Follow me on tumblr/insta? http://cracked-in-a-box.tumblr.com/  
> https://www.instagram.com/cracked_in_a_box/


	9. I Put the 'Pain' in 'Painting'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang eat, paint, and have a good time. Then something goes wrong.
> 
> TWS: fire. If anything needs to be added, please tell me.

“OK, but, I like this colour.”

“Ew, no, that would make the room look _tiny_.”

“It _is_ tiny! Look, it’s my apartment, _I_ say this one!” Dean gestured to the dark blue tub, and Sam rolled his eyes, about to argue back. The shop assistant gave them a father frightened look as they passed.

               “Guys, please. Why not just paint one wall that colour? Then it’s still light, but Dean’s happy with the colour.” Jess smiled. “Cas, don’t you agree?”

               “…I like this one.” Cas pointed to a moss-green colour, prompting heavy sighs from Sam and Jess. Dean just smirked.

               “Stop winding them up, Cas.”

               Castiel dropped his head to hide his smile. “Sorry.”

In the end, they’d agreed with Jess’ idea. They spent the rest of the day painting the walls and each other. Castiel had shed his coat, and was in a rumpled white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Jess had tied her hair back in a bandana, and much to Sam’s irritation, she insisted he do the same. Dean grinned, pouring the dark blue in one tray, and white in another two for the ceiling and other walls. Old bedsheets clung to furniture and rustled when Sam dropped some clean paint rollers on the couch.

               “Sammy, you’re takin’ the ceiling, we’ll take the walls.” Dean smirked.

               “Sure.” Sam smirked, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt and dipping a roller in white paint.

               It took a grand total of fifteen minutes before Dean had arm cramp. He glanced at Castiel, who was laughing with Sam about something, probably nerdy. He was glad they were getting along. “Hey, Cas?” Dean prompted, and Castiel looked at him, puzzled.

               “Yes, De—”

               Dean didn’t let him finish the question before spreading a streak of blue on Castiel’s cheek. Cas stood in stunned silence for all of three seconds before breaking out into a grin. He turned to Sam and Jess, making them laugh. “Do I have something on my face?” He mimed trying to wipe something from the other cheek, then span and spread a palm-full of white paint over Dean’s jaw.

               “Fuck!” Dean laughed. Sam stifled a scoff, and Dean pointed at him with a roller. “You’re next, Gigantor.” So saying, he leant forward and rolled a stripe of paint up Sam’s shirt.

               “Dean!” Sam moaned. The three of them turned to see Jessica, slowly backing towards the door. “Oh, no, you don’t! I get it, so do you!” Sam flicked his brush at Jess, speckling her with paint. She yelped, and laughed.

               “That’s mean!”

               “Yeah, Sam, what did she ever do to you?!”

               The four fell about laughing, and ony stopped when Castiel’s phone buzzed.

               “Uh…I’m so sorry, but I have to go. They need me at the fire dept. Someone’s lit a dumpster over in Topeka.”

               “I hope no-ones hurt!”

               “No, it should be fine, but since Balthazar’s still out of action, I had to take up his shifts. Sorry. It was lovely to meet you both.” Castiel nodded at Sam and Jess, and kissed Dean chastely. “I’ll see you all later.”

               “Go save a dumpster, Cas.” Dean smirked.

*~**~

After Castiel left, the atmosphere sobered, if only marginally.

               “So, Dean, how are you, really? You’ve been through a lot in this past few weeks, man, first the apartment, then Cas, and your coming-out.”

               “Sammy, I’m fine. Everyone’s been so cool about all of it.”

               “I wasn’t asking about them, Dean. I mean, how are things with Cas, _really_? Do you feel comfortable taking things this…speed?”

               Dean sighed, smirking. “I am _not_ drunk enough for this conversation.”

Jess offered him a beer, then Sam, taking a cider for herself.

               “OK, where are you getting this stuff?” Dean chuckled.

               Jess just shrugged. “You an’ Castiel took ages to get back from the Roadhouse. I explored.”

 

               After that, it didn’t take them too long to give up painting altogether, opting instead for a movie marathon. Turned out Jess had never seen the Star Wars films in the _correct_ order. Only prequels first, which in Dean’s mind, was a tragedy.

               They drank, they laughed, they watched good films. And still, Dean felt like something was missing. Some _one._

               He crashed out part way through Return of the Jedi, leaning on Sam, Jess huddled on the couch.

               _He was at a lake. He’d been here before, years ago. Sam was…Sam had been there too, but he was sick at the time, so Dean had left him at the motel._

_Sam and Dean had had a…difficult childhood. After their mother died, their father had dragged them around the country, trying to settle down again. His hunt had been unsuccessful. Truth be told, Dean had no idea where John Winchester was, or even if he was still alive. But that didn’t matter. Not right now._

_The lake was still. Calm. The sky was blue. Or…Grey. The water was clear. Maybe cloudy. He felt calm. He was scared. He was emotionless. He was alone. He felt like he was being watched._

_The water moved. Nothing was under it. He was fishing. Why, if the lake was empty?_

_He heard the Impala behind him. He turned to check. He stayed completely still. Someone behind him greeted him, but Dean couldn’t make out the words. Blue flooded his vision. Suddenly, he was in a forest. He needed to leave, but he didn’t know how. He had to save someone. He had to be saved._

_A voice, far away, called to him. There were no words, but the noise was incessant. Yelling._

_“—Now! Please, Dean, wake up! You have to wake up!”_

_That didn’t sound like a good idea. But it wouldn’t stop._

_“Dean! Please! Come on, you have to wake up!”_

Something hit him. In front of him, there was blue. Was he still dreaming?

_Cas._

Castiel was leaning over him, ash all over his face, desperation radiating off him.

               “C-Cas? I…what…What happened?”

               “Your apartment, Dean. It’s burning.”

               “What? What the _fuck_?!” He pushed Cas away a few steps, allowing himself to sit up. He was on a gurney, in an ambulance. Sam lay next to him, unconscious, but breathing. “Sam!”

               “The paramedics said he would be OK; he woke up a few minutes ago. Dean, I’m so sorry. I could have saved her, I could have stopped the fire, but that stupid fucking dumpster fire in Topeka was more than they said. By the time we got here, we couldn’t…I couldn’t…”

               “Woah, woah, what? S—save her? Who…” Dean went numb. His eyes flew to Sam. “Cas, please tell me that Jessica is OK.”

               Cas fell silent. Which was really answer enough. “I…I’m so sorry. She’s in the other ambulance, but they said…They said…” He choked.

               _Fuck._

 _“_ This can’t be a coincidence, Cas. I…I mean, two of my apartments? That…Someone did this.”

               Under the ash and tear marks, Castiel went pale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry. Please don't hate me.


	10. Things get Scary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens.
> 
> TWs: Cas' past is explored a little bit. If anyone needs me to add anything, you know where the commetns section is.

“ _Somebody_ fucking _did it!”_ Dean stormed into Lawrence precinct, smoke practically flooding from him. “They did it before, they did it again, and now someone’s _died! We_ need to get on this!”

               “Woah, woah, Dean, _wait_. What’re you talking about? Who’s died?” Charlie stood to meet him.

               “It’s arson, Charlie. That’s my second apartment that’s been burned to the ground, and now, Jess is _dead._   Sam’s under observation at the hospital, and Cas fucking _blames himself._ Someone’s targeting me, I _know_ it.”

               While he was speaking, the other officers gained gradually horrified expressions.

               “Jessica…is…she’s dead?” Benny spoke. Dean had told them all about his brother and Sam’s girlfriend in the past, hell, he even had a photo of both of them together on his desk.

               “Yeah. Someone killed her, I know it.”

               Bobby appeared at his office door, about to yell. Something gave him pause, and when Dean explained, Bobby scowled. “You’re right, Dean. Second place in as many months? That’s awful suspicious. Who would be targetin’ you, boy?”

               “I…I don’t know. But we’re _detectives!_ We can work this out. We _have_ to!”

               Bobby nodded, “File it an open case and get on it then!” He disappeared into his office once again.

               “Dean…If you need a place to stay, you could move back in with me.” Charlie offered lowly. “I mean, whoever did this didn’t do a thing to you while you were on my couch…”

               Dean shook his head. “Someone’s dead, Charlie. Things have changed.”

               “C’mon, Dean, please.” Something in Charlie’s voice changed that made Dean pause and look at her.

               “Fine. One night, then I’m staying in a motel.”

               “Yeah, ‘cause there’s _less_ people there.” Charlie quipped. Dean gave her a Look. “…Sorry.”

 

The day was an irritating one. Dean had no real evidence, apart from situational, and had no idea where to start. He flipped through some of his older cases, anything to do with arson. Nothing. The only thing to do with fire was a domestic violence report he’d dealt with a few years ago, where one of them had burnt the other with a lighter.

               He questioned some perps they had in holding, in a brief hope that one of them knew _anything_. He was wrong.

               “I need to take a walk,” he grunted to Kevin, and without waiting for a reply, stormed out.

               He didn’t walk that far; his trip was over when he reached the side of the precinct. Sheltered by a slimy alleyway, he began to let out his frustrations on the walls.

               “Dean.”

               The voice made him jump, but he identified it instantly, not even bothering to turn away from the wall he was kicking. “Bobby.”

               “Boy, what good’s this gonna do ya? Throwin’ a tantrum at a pile o’ bricks isn’t gonna catch whoever did this. You ain’t had time to get ta grips wi’ what’s goin’ on. Go see ya brother, or Castiel. They need ya, boy, and bein’ here ain’t helpin’ no-one. I’ll put one a’ the others on the case for now, but you need to go.”

               Dean stilled. “Thanks, Bobby.” He wanted to argue, but he knew the older Chief well enough to know that wasn’t going to help. He trudged past him, stewing silently, and slept all day.

               ~*~*~*~*~

               “Hey, Sammy.” Dean whispered. It was the day after the fire. Dean had spent the night on Charlie’s couch, and was now at the hospital. Sam was awake, physically, but he wasn’t…he wasn’t alive. Dean had seen people give up, and it looked like this. They were both devastated. “Listen, man, I’m sorry. Truly. I…If I’d known, I’d…”

               “You’d what, Dean? How could you have known what was going to happen? I don’t blame you. But you’d better find whoever did this, or _I will_.”

               Sam was right, of course. Their dad had taught them terrible things when they were kids, and, if the know-how was still in there, Sam could kill whoever did this. No weapon required.

               “I’m tryin’ man. But I got no leads. Any evidence went up in the fire.”

               Sam glared at him. “Dean, you keep saying you’re the best detective in Lawrence. Prove it.”

               Dean’s blood ran cold. “…Yeah. OK. When…when’re they gonna let you out?”

               “Soon. It’s just precaution.”

Dean stood. “OK, man. I’ve gotta go, but you get well soon, ‘Kay?”

               Sam just nodded passively, and Dean had to leave. He didn’t have any plans, but he couldn’t face seeing Sam like that. He knew he was weak. He knew Sam needed him. But he couldn’t do it. Not right now. _I’m sorry, Sammy._

~*~*~*~*

Castiel was low. Lower than he had been in a while. The only reason he got up that morning was because Meg needed food. After that, he just sat in his pyjamas and stared at the ceiling, finding shapes in the patterned paint. Sound seemed like too much, the only light he let in was the dim shine through his curtains. He was all too aware of his own breathing. Meg had left some time ago.

               Someone knocked at his door, and it was only a great amount of internal screaming at himself that he was able to get up.

               “Dean. I…I didn’t expect you.” Any other day, he might have cared what state Dean saw him in. But right now, he couldn’t find it in himself. Still, he stood to the side, letting the other man into his home.

               “Hey…Cas…You OK?” Dean looked concerned, and Castiel suddenly felt guilty.

               Castiel grunted. “’m fine. Just…” he trailed off.

               Dean nodded. “Yeah, me too. Listen, I wanted to ask you something.” Cas flicked the kettle on, raising an eyebrow in question Dean nodded. “Coffee, please.”

               “What did you need?”

               “I…uh…Look, I wanted to thank you. For savin’ my ass, again.”

               “I didn’t pull you out. Gabriel did. I helped Sam.”

               “…Well, thank you for savin’ his ass.”

               “I did a piss-poor job of it, Dean. He’s in hospital, remember? How is he, by the way? I’d visit, but I don’t think he wants to see me.”

               “Cas, you saved his life. Of course he wants to see you.”

               “I couldn’t save Jessica, though.”

               Dean sighed. “Cas, that’s not your fault. You did all you could, man. Without you, I’d be dead. Or, Sam would be. If you wanna fucking blame anyone, it should be the person who did it.”

               Cas just grunted again, handing Dean his drink. Dean noted that he didn’t make one for himself. “Uh, Cas…It’s nearly 3, man, have you eaten or drunk anything today? Or yesterday?”

               Castiel made a noncommittal sound that was an answer in itself.

               “’Kay, babe, you’re gonna have a shower, get changed, and we’re goin’ for food.”

               Cas had gone red, and it took Dean a moment to notice why. He’d used a pet name, and though it wasn’t something he usually did, it just… _fit_.

               Castiel stood, avoiding eye contact, and shuffled towards the bathroom, mumbling something about Netflix, if Dean wanted.

 

               Fifteen minutes later, the lock on the door rustled. Dean looked up reflexively from the _Stranger Things_ episode on Cas’ laptop, and oh, Jesus. Cas emerged, looking sheepish in his own skin and not a lot else. Dark blue jeans clung to his waist, and he held a towel around his chest. His broad shoulders were bare, and how was Dean supposed to breathe again?

               Cas all but scurried to his room, appearing in a few seconds in a well-worn grey shirt. “Sorry. OK. Where do you want to go?”

 

~*~*~*~*

By the time they’d chosen a place, and then what they were going to have, it was almost 4. They settled on a pizza place, and although they didn’t quite feel like laughing, Dean was glad that Castiel was eating.

               “Cas…do you…do you do that a lot?” When the question was met with a confused head tilt and squint, Dean elaborated. “Shut yourself up and not eat or anything.”

               Cas frowned. “Oh. Not in a while. Sorry. I guess I just…I just freaked out a little bit.”

               “Why? I mean, it wasn’t because you blame yourself, right? Because, Cas, I’ve already said….”

               “No, it…It was something else.” Cas looked vacant for a moment, before cracking a small smile. “But thank you. For making me go out. I needed it.”

               “Anytime. That’s what boyfriends are for, right?” He smiled.

               For a moment, forgetting everything else, life looked good.

 

At 6, the two of them meandered over to Charlie’s. Now Dean was staying there, and he and Castiel were officially dating, he thought it best that the two actually met. Charlie opened the door for them, grinning a grin that was partially forced.

               “So, you’re Castiel, huh? Y’know, you look taller in your uniform.” She handed them their own remotes while a familiar tune buzzed from the TV.

               “Mariokart? Really?” Dean rolled his eyes.

               “Say what you want Dean, but it Cas is as good as you say, I need to see.”

               Castiel smiled. “OK, but I warn you, Dean cheats.”

 

 

               Castiel was good. But Charlie was better. Dean lost every. Single. Race.

               Dean swore loudly, then collapsed onto the couch.

               “Aww, Dean, c’mon!” Charlie wined.

               Castiel took the more effective approach, leaning over the arm rest of the couch and planting a kiss to the back of Dean’s head. “Sorry, Dean. Maybe next time.”

               “No, you guys all cheat. I don’t know how, but you do.”

               Charlie giggled. “No, Dean, you just suck.”

Castile stood. “It was lovely to meet you, Charlie, but I have to go. My cat needs me.”

               Charlie scoffed. “Sure, Cas, you just take defeat better than Dean does. See ya soon, yeah?”

               Castiel nodded, and kissed Dean again. “See you both later.”

“Hang on, Cas, I’ll drive you back to yours.” Dean stood again, grabbing his keys.

The drive to Cas’s was nothing, compared to what happened when they got there. Castiel invited Dean inside. The evening spiralled. Dean didn’t go back to Charlie’s that night.

               Dean reached for Cas’ shirt through a particularly heated make-out session, but Cas’ hands stilled him. “No. Not my shirt.”

               And, hey, if Cas was willing for one thing, but not another, Dean wasn’t going to argue.

               *~*~*~*~

 

The morning arrive d much too soon. Dean awoke to the sounds of the shower, a mug of coffee on the tiny table next to him, and a grin on his face a mile wide. He could get used to this.

               He found his phone in his jeans, switching it on.

 

               _7 missed calls._

_9 messages._

_Charles McSquarles:_

_00:23- Dean. Someone’s in the apartment._

_00:23- Dean, answer me. They’re looking around. There’s more than one of them. I think they have guns._

_00:23- Dean help me I don’t know what to do_

_00:24- I got out the fire escape. I’m at the dept. Call me!_

_01:01- DEAN!_

_01:02- DEAN R U OK?_

_Ash:_

_01:01- Charlie’s @ mine. Wtf, dude u ok?_

_01:02- dude, Ik u can handle urself, but plz._

_Bobby:_

_01:15- Boy, youd better pick up ur phone._

Dean didn’t even bother listening to the calls. He threw himself out of bed, pulling on his clothes quicker than he ever had, almost bumping into Cas in the hall.

               “Cas, Charlie’s apartment’s been broken into I think she’s OK, but I gotta to the precinct.”

               Castiel looked shocked. “I’m coming too. Unless there’s an emergency, I don’t have to be at the fire department until later.”

               Dean nodded, grabbing the Impala’s keys. The two rushed to the precinct in record time.

               *~*~*~

               “Boy! Where the _HELL_ have you been!” Bobby snarled at him when they arrived. “Charlie is shaken, Ash and Benny are checkin’ out the place.

               “I’m sorry, Bobby. I…uh, I stayed at Cas’ last night, and—”

               “You think I care, boy? Get in there!”

               Dean and Castiel rushed in, meeting Charlie at her desk.

               “Charlie, I’m so sorry, I should have called.”

               “Damn right you should’ve! I could’ve _died_ , Winchester!”

               Cas took over, always a calming influence. “Charlie, it’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

               Ash and Benny ran in, discussing heatedly. “Guys, look at this.” Benny pressed a button on his tablet, and the printer whirred into action. In a few seconds, a picture of what was Charlie’s apartment came into view. “Look. If it was any regular B&E, stuff would be missing, yeah? But they didn’t _take_ anything. They trashed stuff, and painted this on the wall, then buggered off.”

               The phrase, scrawled across the wall read: “PIG LEAVE HIM ALONE” in red all-caps. Next to the words was a logo, a weird jagged line in a circle, surrounded by triangles, ‘N’s, and swirls.

               “Have any of you guys seen that before?”

Dean shook his head, then glanced at Charlie, who repeated the action. He heard a soft bump behind him, and span. Cas’ eyes were wide, his breathing shallow and uneven. He was staring at nothing, skin sallow and grey. “Cas? Babe?”

               This seemed to shake Cas out of his shocked stillness, and he made a choked noise and turned away, storming to the bathroom.

               Benny made to follow him, fire in his eyes, but Dean stolled him. “I’ll go.”

 

               Cas was a statue. His hands held the sink with such force that Dean was worried the porcelain might break.

               “Cas?”

               “I…I thought I’d never see him again. I…He was in jail. He wasn’t going to come back.”

               “Who…? Cas, who are you talking about?” Dean approached him, careful not to touch him.

               “A-Alistair. He…he’s an ex of mine.” Cas looked ashamed. “He…liked fires.”

               “OK…and…oh. Oh.” The domestic disturbance case. One of them had lit the other on fire with a lighter. He’d gone to jail for that, and a few other calls. Dean had been the one to send him there.

               “He…he…” Cas turned to Dean, taking a breath. “Promise me, Dean Winchester, that you won’t see me any differently after this. Leave me all you want, but I don’t want your pity.” He hissed. Dean could only nod.

               Cas pulled his shirt up, exposing his stomach. On it, scored into the flesh, was the same symbol Dean had seen painted on the walls.

               “That’s why you didn’t want your shirt off…” Dean said rather unnecessarily, his brain piecing things together.

               “I used to be religious. Alistair ripped that away from me. That symbol is supposed to banish angels. He thought it funny.” Castiel dropped his shirt, dropping his gaze. “He thought a lot of things _funny._ ”

               “Cas…I’m sorry…”


	11. Castiel Explains Some Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TWS: abusive relations talk. Panic attacks. Mentions of self harm. 
> 
> Stuff gets heavy.

“No. No, Dean, I said I didn’t want your pity. It happened, I thought I was _safe_ , I _tried to get over it._ But…now…” Cas stopped, turned, and kicked the wall. Hard.

               Dean flinched. “Woah, Cas, stop. Please. Just…I’ll tell Benny that you know who this guy is. From there, we should be able to catch him. A-and, two cases of arson, manslaughter at _least_ , malicious intent, treats; we can lock this guy away for a while, and then you can keep workin’ on getting’ over it, yeah? I can help you, I _want_ to help you.”

               Cas chuckled coldly, not looking back at Dean. “You don’t get it, Dean. He found me. He found me, and hurt _you_. I…If I’d just stayed away, like I was going to, then…then Jessica would still be alive.”

               “Cas, this, _none of this_ , is your fault. You’re…you’re gonna be fine.”

               “ _Stop telling me that_! That’s all I ever _hear_ , Dean! From my friends, my brothers, it’s always _‘you’ll be fine.´ When?_ It’s been two years, and I can’t even say his _name_ without stuttering like a baby.”

               Dean was going to argue, going to yell that he was _trying_ to help. But Castiel seemed to give up in front of him, kind of deflating. Suddenly, his brave, kind, strong boyfriend, was a struggling, brave, kind-despite-everything, stronger _survivor_. Who needed his help. Dean did see Castiel differently, but he was still _Cas_.

               “Cas…I don’t really know what to tell you, but I want to help you. Whatever you need, I’ll be right there. And we can catch that piece of shit and we can get you help if you want it. It should have been given to you before.” And yeah, he was the officer in charge of the case. But he’d never actually _seen_ how bad the vic was; he’d been arrogant. He was so stoked to lock away Alistair, that he’d given the case over to someone else to deal with the aftermath. Something he’d never do now; following cases through until they were closed was something he’d learned was _worth it_. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you before, Cas.”

               Castiel nodded. “You should be. But you got me out of there. Thank you for that. And I saved you, too. So, we’re even.”

               “…That…that’s not the reason you decided to date me, was it?”

               Cas shook his head. “No. That…was because you’re a good person, Dean Winchester. A…and…I know where to find Alistair.”

               “What?”

               “He…He contacted me. Told me that…If I wanted to keep you safe, I should meet him. Tomorrow. At the airport. I don’t know what he’s planning, but—”

               “Cas, please tell me you weren’t thinking of going.”

               Cas snapped at him, “Or course not! I…I was going to…I…hadn’t thought of a plan, yet.”

               Dean sighed. “OK. So, we tell the team. They apprehend Alistair, easy as, right?”

               Cas didn’t respond, but trudged towards the door. Dean followed him, and in five minutes, the police squad was planning how to catch Alistair.

               Castiel left a few hours later. The squad had asked him every question under the sun, and he was visibly exhausted. However much they asked him about Castiel’s relationship with Alistair, he avoided them all. Eventually, when he’d given up all the information he deemed useful about Alistair, he pulled Dean away.

               “Can we go get lunch?”

               “Sure, Cas, let’s go.”

They went to the Roadhouse.

               “Hey, boys. Jo just called, told me everything she could. I’m so sorry.” Ellen smiled reassuringly at them from her space behind the bar.

               “Thanks, Ellen.”

               “I doubt Charlie’s gonna want to go back to hers tonight, huh? Tell ‘er all three a y’all can stay at mine. Since Jo moved out, I got an extra room. Safety in numbers, huh?”

               “…Thanks, Ellen, but you don’t have to do that. We can stay at Castiel’s.”

               Castiel shook his head. “A-Actually, he knows where I live. He only broke into Charlie’s to get to you, and then you weren’t there, so he resorted to childish threats. H-He’ll probably come to mine tonight.”

               “…Ellen, we’d love to take you up on that offer.” Dean downed what was lift of his whiskey. This was a fucking _mess_.

 

*~*~*~*

               Castiel awoke with a start, but couldn’t immediately place what had startled him. After the initial panic, he took in his surroundings. The room was bare of all but the bed he was in, and even that was sparsely made. No clocks to tell him the time, no wardrobes or cabinets to hold possessions. There was no one in the room with him. He looked up towards the ceiling, and was  struck by a heart-gripping, breath-stopping panic. Above him, on the bare ceiling was one solitary lightbulb, harboured by one dark blue lampshade.

               Suddenly, he was back. Before, with _him_. He knew it was too good to be true. Meg, the prank war, _Dean_ , it had all been one long dream. False. Intangible. _A lie_. But now he was awake, he was back there, with _HIM._ His heart stopped. Or maybe it went too fast to notice a beat. He couldn’t breathe. His vision was clouded, but it was all too clear. _Alistair_. Oh, God, no. He tried to breathe, but could only manage a disgruntled, painful gasp for air. He heard someone in another room drop something, and footsteps, heavy and malicious, echoed around his mind. His hands moved to his arms, doing their best to scratch his skin from them frantically. His eyes were glued to that dark blue lampshade. The door flew open, and—

 _Dean_. Dean was there, in front of him. His green eyes were boring into him. It…hadn’t been a lie. Alistair _wasn’t here_. But Castiel still couldn’t breathe. His nails moved faster against his red-raw skin. Lights were too bright. Memories, instead of air, flooded his system, and he still _wasn’t breathing._ Dean was saying something, grabbing his hands and forcing them away from his arms. He was moving, slowly, deliberately, and Cas knew what he was supposed to do. But he couldn’t. His eyes slammed shut, and he tried to mimic the was Dean was moving. Eventually, air flooded his lungs. He opened his eyes, and his vision cleared.

               “…C-cas? Buddy, you OK?”

               Castiel sat up slowly, taking a moment before speaking. “Uhm…I can’t really answer that honestly, Dean. I think you know the answer, anyway. Sorry for worrying you.”

               Dean sighed, a mix between relieved and agitated. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up. Ellen’s making breakfast.”

               Cas nodded and allowed himself to be led to the bathroom, where Dean dabbed the scratches with antiseptic. Castiel didn’t even flinch; he was busy thinking about other things.

               “I promise you, Castiel, I swear, we’ll get this guy. We’ll help you.”

               Castiel nodded. “Of course, Dean.”

               “Hey. Let’s go out, tonight. Just you an’ me, we can go to the movies, or for food, anything you want. Yeah?”

               Castiel shook his head. “I’m sorry, Dean. But Alistair has contacts. They know me. They could be there. I know it sounds stupid, but I don’t want to risk it. It’s paranoid, but…I can’t…” He sighed heavily. “God, I’m a pain. I…No-one’s forcing you to stick around, you know…”

               “It doesn’t sound stupid. I get it. And I’m sticking around ‘cause I lo—really like you, Cas. None of this is your fault. I won’t leave you because of him.”

               “…Thank you.” Cas’ reply was almost inaudible, but Dean heard it. He met Castiel’s eyes and leant in slowly, letting Cas pull away of he wanted.

               Cas closed the gap.

 

 

               “Boys! Charlie! Get yer asses down here before yer eggs go cold!” Ellen yelled. Dean chuckled, before taking Cas’ hand and leading him downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I don't know how I feel about this...  
> How do you all feel?


	12. Where's Waldo?

“Dean.”

“Benny. What’s up?” Dean threw a concerned glance at Charlie and Castiel across the table. Ellen collected their plates, disappearing into the kitchen. He put the phone down, tapping the loudspeaker button.

“Hey, Benny,” Charlie greeted, “Castiel is here, too.”

“Hey, guys. We, uh… We apprehended a perp this mornin’. Not much, just petty theft, but she says she knows about Alistair. I believe ‘er, brother. She’s…uh, she’s got the same symbol that was on Char’s walls, tattooed on ‘er arm. She won’t tell me her name, or anything.”

               Dean met Cas’s eyes. “What does she look like?”

               Benny snorted. “Come to the fucking precinct and come see for yourself, Dean, I’m not your flunkie.”

               “Benny, Cas might know her. I’m not making him come down there.”

               “…” Benny sighed, then began to list off her features. “She’s brunette. Brown eyes, round-ish face, I guess…? Uh, I don’t really know what to say, Dean.”

               “…I’ll come down there. But I’m not talking to her.” Castiel’s voice was rougher than usual.

               “Cas, no—”

               “Dean, If I have to, I will.”

               “OK, guys, don’t have a domestic.” Charlie joked feebly, trying to lighten the mood. Dean shot her a Look.

               “I’ll be there soon, Benny. Thank you.” Castiel interjected, and they said their goodbyes. Castiel stood, and trudged to the kitchen, not letting Dean speak.

               Dean of course, followed him, Charlie on his heels. Castiel had started to help Ellen clean up, his back facing him.

               “Cas, what the fuck? After what happened this morning, you just expect me to let you go like that? What if you see her and have another panic attack? O-or start…y’know, again?”

               Castiel put a soapy plate on the drying rack next to him before replying. His voice was jumpy, like he was forcing the words out. “It’s my choice, Dean. I’ll be fine. Chances are, I don’t even know her. She didn’t sound familiar; all of Alistair’s… _female friends_ were blonde.”

               Dean bit his lip, still unsure. Castiel gave him a pleading, exasperated glance. “Dean, please. I’m not useless. I know what I can deal with. I was just caught off-guard.” Cas threw him a small smile, which Dean returned.

               “I know, baby. Sorry. I’ll take you.”

               Cas’ smile grew, and he sauntered into Dean’s space, planting a timid kiss on the police officer’s lips. “I’m not having the same pet name as your car, Dean.”

               The normalcy to this statement made Dean break into giggles. A Super Manly, Not-at-all Lovestruck laugh. Cas grinned, and walked past him, having finished clearing up. Charlie snorted.

               “Dude, you’re _so_ whipped, it’s actually funny.”

               “Shaddup, Charles, you’re just jealous.” Dean trudged past his friend, said goodbye to Ellen, and grabbed his keys.

               *~*~*~*~

               “Hey, Ash! Is Benny in?” Dean called as he herded Castiel into the station.

               “Yeah, lemme get ‘im for ya. Hey, Cas.” Ash nodded in greeting, and Castiel gave a small wave.

               Benny emerged a few seconds later, clutching a case file. He handed it to Dean, then looked at Castiel. “You sure you’re ready for this? She’s weird, man, it’s like…she knows something we don’t.”

               Castiel m=nodded. “That’s because she probably does. I’ll be fine. Take me to her.” Benny, slightly taken back at Castiel’s cold tone, led him to the back of the precinct, where the interrogation room was.

               Dean caught up, mumbling, “sorry, Benny, I kinda wound him up before we came.”

               Benny nodded, semi-understandingly, and came to a stop outside one of the doors. “This is the observation room. You’ll be able to see her through the window, but she can’t see you. We just need you to identify her, then you can go if you want.”

               Castiel nodded, allowing himself to be led into the room.

               On the other side of the glass sat a woman handcuffed to a metal loop protruding from the middle of the table she was at.

               Her hair was long, and brown, slightly curly. He had a pale, round face, with brown eyes and a smug expression. She wore a dark leather jacket over a burgundy shirt. Castiel squinted. Something about her was familiar, but he couldn’t place where. When he told Benny as much, the officer just nodded.

               “That’s OK, we’ll send someone in to ask her a few questions. Maybe you’ll recognise her voice.”

               As if on cue, Kevin entered the interrogation room. The woman smirked in challenge. “Well, well, well. What’s up, kid, you here to let me out?”

               Benny was transfixed on the interrogation, but Dean was staring at Castiel. He caught the marginal widening of his eyes, the slight bobbing of his Adam’s apple. He knew something.

               But the conversation was still going. Kevin was speaking. “—And if you just told us your name, or the name of your…associates, this would be much easier on you. We could even try to make a bargain.”

               “Easier for you, you mean.” She smirked, and Dean swore her eyes flicked straight at him. No, not him, _Castiel_. But that was impossible.

               “If you don’t give us your name, we’ll find it out.”

               “How? You got yourself a little rat?” the woman’s eyes flicked back to Kevin.

               “You don’t need to know what we’ve got. But tell us the name of the people you work with, and where they are, and we might be able to let you go.”

               “You don’t get it. If I tell you, they’ll kill me. At best. I’m not going to get lucky, like your little friend behind the glass did.”

               Castiel stood. “I thought you said she didn’t know.” He hissed.

               “Sh-she didn’t. They must have worked out we’d get help; they knew you were together, right?” Benny threw back.

               “It doesn’t matter, because Castiel knows who she is, doncha, Cas?”

               Castiel met his eyes, then glanced at Benny, before looking back at the floor. “Her name is… _was_ , Meg Masters. She’s…very different than before, but no-one can be that smug and clueless at the same time.”

               “Who is she?”

               “Meg was…she was conflicted. She was Alistair’s lackey, but…she liked me. Actually liked me, not like Alistair said he did. I…She helped me; she patched me up whenever Alistair went too far.”

               “So…What? Does she know where they are?”

               “How should I know? I haven’t seen her in over two years.” Castiel snapped at Benny, then sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Sorry. Maybe she knows? She was trusted, that’s for sure. But anything could have changed since Ali—Ali _stair_ got out.”

               Dean didn’t miss the blunder over the nickname, and his eyes flew worriedly to Castiel’s hunched form, once again hidden in the heavy trench coat. “Cas? A-Are you…?” What? OK? Done here?

               “I’m fine, Dean. I said I would be.” Castiel turned his attention back to the one-sided window, where Kevin and Meg were still talking.

               “Look. Tell us where to find Alistair.”

               Meg giggled. “ _Alistair_? Wow, buddy, you really don’t know what’s going on. You think _Alistair_ ’s in charge?”

               “Well, who is?” Kevin demanded. “Who _is_ in charge?”

               Meg leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “I’ll tell you who we answer to. I’ll tell you where to find Alistair. I can’t guarantee he’ll be there, but there’s a chance. But, you let me walk. Sound fair?”

               “You said if we let you go, they’ll kill you. So, how can we know you’re telling the truth?”

               “I guess you’ll just have to trust me, huh? But Clarence there does, I can tell you that.”

               “Clarence?” The three police officers spoke at once, and Cas flinched. Meg laughed.

               “She means me. I don’t really understand why, but she’s always called me that.” Cas turned to Dean, his eyes searching deep in Dean’s soul. Dean didn’t break eye contact. “Can we go?”

               “No.” Benny answered before Dean could. “Not if you still know things.”

               “I know a lot of things,” Castiel spat, turning his stare to Benny, who was caught off-guard by Castiel’s seemingly ethereal glare. “For instance, did you know that the human body stays conscious for twenty seconds when decapitated?”

               So saying, he pushed past Benny, leaving Dean behind. Dean glanced at his friend, smiling curtly before following his boyfriend. “Sorry, Benny. I’ll call you if he tells me anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry i didn't update yesterday, i was behind on my art project and had to catch up before the exam tomorrow. But I'm back!  
> I know the last few chapters have been a little weird/confusing, but it will clear up soon!  
> Thank you for your patience and stuff!  
> (comments r gr8 plz?)


	13. A Drive Down Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has flashbacks. Dean makes a bad decision.
> 
> TWs: Past abuse. Threat.

_“C’mon, Cassie! It’s nothing, baby, I didn’t mean it!”_

_“No, Alistair, this has gone on long enough. I can’t deal with it. The—The fights, and the dealing, and the theft. Fuck knows what else you’ve been doing!”_

_Alistair’s eyes shined with malice, and his hand shot out, gripping Castiel’s arm. “Listen,_ Cassie _. You’ll have to deal with it.” While he spoke, the vice-like grip he had twisted, forcing Castiel to step closer to him, for fear of a broken wrist._

 _Suddenly, Alistair let go. “…I’m so_ sorry _, Cassie, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He cupped Castiel’s face in his hands, pulling him into a kiss. “You forgive me, right? You know I’d never lie to_ you _, yeah?”_

_Castiel nodded. They both seemed content to let the lie sit between them._

_After a second or so, Alistair grinned. “Good boy. Now, Lucy’s gonna come over in a bit, and then we’re going to go talk to one of his clients. Until then, why don’t we have a little fun?”_

Castiel blinked out of his reverie, back in the Impala. When had it started to rain? The fat droplets landed like punches on the window, then ran like tears to the bottom. People passed by outside. Some, the unlucky ones caught in the storm, were rushing from A to B, jackets thrown over their heads for shelter. Some of them, in groups, were laughing to each other despite the freezing weather. Others had umbrellas or raincoats, or simply took shelter under bus stops. Castiel wondered where they were going.

               The car around him crawled to a stop at a red light. Castiel had seen many things the same colour as the hue in front of him. The colour of the truck he rides around in to save lives. The colour of the flames he stamped out. The colour of the blood he’d seen far too much of. The colour of the tomatoes he used to grow when he was a child, until Gabriel pissed on them. The colour of Alistair’s old lighter.

_“C’mon, Cassie, this won’t hurt a bit!”_

_“For you, maybe, Ali, but I—” SLAP!_

_“…Cassie, I’m so sorry! Look what you made me do; your face is all red now. I just wish you wouldn’t answer back.” Alistair didn’t give him a chance to speak before he was dragging the flame across Castiel’s skin. There was a laugh, as dark and bitter as coffee._

_“Now, you know I love you, right? This is for your own good, so that no one will try to take us away from each other.”_

_It hurt him just trying to get the words out. “I-I know, Ali. I-I love you, too.”_

He was scratching the leather on the seats, but didn’t dare look at Dean to see if he’d noticed. He probably had. He was probably glancing between Castiel and the road, which had started moving under them again, with pity. Or annoyance.

               Castiel’s skin crawled, tiny bumps raising on his arms and something just behind his spine shifting like a snake. His phone, which had buzzed seconds before, sat face down in his lap.

               “Cas, I know you keep saying you’re OK, man, a-and I believe you, but if you want to talk, that’s what I’m here for. I love you, man, don’t forget that.” Dean didn’t even realize they’d never said it to each other before; it felt like a common fact. He loved Cas.

               “…I know, Dean. I love you, too.”

*~*~*~

               “Dean.”

               “ _Ali.”_

“Dean! _Dean!”_

 _“Ali, stop!_ Alistair!”

               Dean rolled over, ready to help or fight or yell before he was even properly awake. Castiel was tossing around next to him, choked sobs falling from his lips like prayers. “Cas!” Dean grabbed Castiel’s shoulders, trying anything his sleep-addled brain could find in ‘How to wake up nightmare victim.’

               The blue of Castiel’s eyes appeared over his shoulder, and Dean realized that Cas waasn’t asleep. The bright white light of Castiel’s phone slammed onto the mattress, and Dean couldn’t move out of the way quick enough as Castiel shot up into a rigid sitting position. His hands cupped his face and he _sobbed_.

               “Dean, Dean, I’m so scared. What if—What if they—If _he_ -”

               “Woah, woah, Cas, breathe. C’mon, with me,” Dean held Castiel’s hands away from his face, and his arms, or anything he could hurt himself with. He started to breathe deeply, remembering something about 7-4-8 inhaling-holding-exhaling. Castiel began to copy him, and eventually pulled his hands away from Dean so he could wipe his face.

               “S—Sorry. Sorry, you don’t need this. You should be out there, helping people. A-And instead you’re just stuck with me, I-I…” Castiel trailed off. He wanted to say that Dean should leave him alone, but he couldn’t, “God, I’m too fucking selfish to let you go.”

               Dean shushed him, like a mother would to a distressed child. He pulled him closer, gently, So their chests were against each other, his legs under Castiel’s and his hands rubbing his back. “C’mon, Cas, you’re not selfish. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere without you. I love you.”

               “…A-Alistair contacted me.”

               “What?” Dean pulled back sharply, more out of shock than anything, but Castiel reacted as if he’d been hit. Or he was expecting a hit.

               “I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!”

               Dean was going to argue; every stubborn bone in him was going to fight tooth and nail that Castiel was wrong not to tell him. But something, whether it was the Powers that Be, his own conscience, or something deeper, made him think of Jess.

               _“Sam’s right, Dean. It sounds like he might have been though some stuff. Maybe you just need to be patient.”_

               “…It’s OK, Cas. Yeah, you should have said something, but you didn’t. You are now. That’s what matters. When?”

               “…Wh…when we left the precinct this morning.” Cas mumbled, seemingly surprised at Dean’s forgiveness. That hurt more than anything.

               “O…OK. What did he say?”

               “He…he sent me a text. He told me if I didn’t…If I didn’t leave you, and meet him, then…then…”

               “Then, _what_ , Cas? What’s gonna happen?”

               “He said he’ll kill you.” Castiel looked up, meeting Dean’s eyes.

               “…Well, we’d better make sure that doesn’t happen, yeah? Where did he tell you to meet him?”

               “…That’s not all, Dean.”

               “Then what?”

               “He said I had to meet him in the airport, at 6:00am tomorrow. He keeps bringing the time closer, though. I didn’t think he was serious, but he keeps going on about it and I think…I don’t even know what I think…”

               “Why there? It’s gonna be _packed._ The holidays are starting tomorrow, that’s why Sam and…Why Sam got here early, to stop getting caught up in crowds.”

               “Exactly. Think about it. More people around, less easy for cops. More people…More people to hurt if the cops _do_ show.”

               _Fuck._

               “Damn. Shit. OK, we can do this. I…I can sort this out.”

               “No, Dean. That’s too many people, I can’t risk it. I…I think I’m going to go.”

               “No. Castiel, listen to me. You’re not going to meet him. I don’t fucking care what he thinks he’ll be able to do. I’ll call the dept, sort a squad out. We’ll get him.”

               “But Dean, he won’t be alo—”

               Dean stood, ignoring Castiel’s protests, grabbed a hoodie and jeans, and stormed out.

               _What the fuck. That twisted piece of shit. How did he think he was going to pull that off?_ He shoved the keys into the ignition of Baby, scratching the metal and not even caring. He glanced at the clock. 5:45. It was a twenty-minute drive to the airport, if he obeyed the limit. He was willing to risk it. He drove quickly, leaving Castiel behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOh!! Only a few chapters left, if you can believe!   
> you guys are lucky I can update today, I should be finishing my art before it gets marked tomorrow, lol.  
> Comments r great, I don't know who to kill off without them! XD  
> (Im joking, i'm joking, I already know the next one to go!)


	14. B(lood)eans get spilled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> TWs: gun. fire. past character death.

Castiel stared after Dean, even after he’d left. Something in his brain flicked on, and he scrambled for his phone, calling for Charlie. He had to contact the 99. Where the _Hell_ was his phone? He’d had it, right…oh.

 

…oh, no.

 

            Dean pulled Cas’ phone from his pocket, glancing between the screen and the road in front of him. He dialled the last number that had texted Castiel, and punched the loudspeaker button.

            “Hello, Cassie. I hope you’re on your way, or a while lot of people are gonna get hurt, and—”

            “I take it I’m speaking to Alistair, yeah?” Dean interrupted. He didn’t have the patience to listen to that slimy hiss any more than necessary.

            “…And who’re you?”

            “Officer Winchester of Lawrence 99. Listen, I don’t want you anywhere near Cas, you hear me? Leave him alone, you smarmy bastard.”

            “…Oh, the pig who thinks my Cassie is his. Well, you’re wrong, little piggy. Cassie belongs to _me_. He’d better get here quick, too, because I don’t know if he told you, but me an’ my friends have a little plan if he decides to leave me again!” Alistair chuckled darkly.

            “Friends? How many of you are there?”

This just made him laugh more. “Oh, so Cassie didn’t tell you? What a shame. He tells me _everything_! For instance, did you know, that our _little angel_ has a dark side?”

            “So does everyone, dickhead, now answer the question!”

            “Aww, you don’t wanna play? Well then. I’ll just tell you. My big bad boss, who set the fires, who killed your little friend, who’s done _so much more_ , Lucifer. You know who that is, Piggy?”

            Dean bit back a retort. This was information, and the longer he kept Alistair talking, the quicker he could get to the airport. He turned left. Not that long to go.

            “Hmm? Lucifer. Oh, he’s been lighting fires before he could _walk_. His father did, actually. Kind of a _family business_.” A giggle. “Your father was a cop, too, right, Officer Winchester? How did he die, again?”

            _What the fuck_? “Y-You’re lying. That’s not possible.”

            “You see, Dean, in this family, whether it be by blood or bond, we hold grudges. Lucifer’s father, well, he didn’t get on too well with your daddy-dearest, now, did he? John blew Lucy’s mother up, you remember that story?”

            He did. It was a car chase, she was high, and drunk, and wasn’t looking. Boom. Straight into a gas station.

            “That was over twenty years ago.”

            Alistair hummed. “Yeah, about that. Did you know, also, that Lucifer, my friend, my boss, had two brothers? They were just kids at the time, you understand. But, your pa killed their mother, so, yours had to go too.”

            _No._

            Alistair laughed, _chortled_ , and Dean realized he’d spoken aloud. “Yup! Your mother went up in flames, but that wasn’t the end of it, was it? Your dad became _obsessed_. Dragging you and little Sammy around for _all. Those. Years._ Then,” Alistair drew air in quickly, making a hissing noise, “he got too close. Sure, Azazel bit the bullet, but Lucifer was still in the game. Did you fix that leaky gas tank, Dean-o?”

            _Fuck. This was ridiculous. Who the fuck did that?_

“You’re sick in the head, the lot of you!” Dean growled. He slammed on the breaks, grabbed the phone and stormed inside the airport.

            “Aw, now, that’s not nice, is it? Now, Lucy’s little brothers, they’d seen enough. The eldest ran off,        but the youngest? I kept him around. He was fun to play with. Lucy didn’t mind too much, I think, they never really got on.”

            “Wh…what?”

            “Bingo! I think he’s got it, boys! And you want to know the kicker? Cassie knew. He knows _Everything. And how much did he tell you, Dean?”_

            Alistair said something else, but it echoed. Dean turned, and the crowd around him froze. He went cold. Alistair was there, in front of him. He was shorter than Dean had imagined. But he had a presence that terrified him. But Dean wasn’t going to show it.

            They hung up on each other without breaking eye contact.

            “How does _that_ make you feel, Dean? Would you like to step outside, and we can deal with this properly?”

 

*~*~*~*

            “ _I’m sorry,_ Benny, but I don’t have to explain myself to you right now! Just _go!_ He needs help, he can’t face Lucifer’s band of _thugs_ on his own! They’ll kill him before he gets the chance to fight!” Castiel yelled at the police officer.

               Kevin, Jo, Ash, and Charlie were running back and forth, equipping themselves with handguns and bullet-proof gear, a luxury that _Dean didn’t have and Oh, God, please let him be alright._

               Benny glared at him or a second, before strapping on his own vest. “Fine. But you’re staying here until we get back. Have this.” He offered Castiel a walkie-talkie. “I’m not supposed to give these out, but you should probably hear what’s gonna go down.”

               Castiel nodded, and the officers stormed out.

               The precinct was empty.

               Once again, Castiel was alone.

 

               It took almost half an hour before anything important came over the speaker. A tiny, crackled voice filtered out. A gunshot sounded. Then another. Someone yelled.

               “ _Dean!”_

 

*~*~*~*

               Dean was shoved to the ground. He got up quickly, but Alistair was quicker, drawing a small black hand gun.

               “I becha didn’t come armed, didya, Dean? Y’know, for a cop, you’re not that smart…”

               Dean lunged to the side and forward, grabbing Alistair’s wrists and forcing them down. The shot hit the pavement harmlessly. Alistair kicked him. Hard. He staggered backwards, and Alistair’s gun was up again.

               Dean froze. Every inch of him wanted to rip the other limb from limb. “Alistair,” He forced, “you don’t have to do this. Put the gun down and—”

               Alistair barked a laugh. “You’re right, Dean, I _want_ to do this. With you out of the picture, Cassie will come crawling back to me. He’s not as strong as you’d like to think.”

               “You think he hasn’t called for backup for me, yet? The entire precinct will be on its way right now, you smug little dick, and then what’s gonna happen to you?”

               “You think I didn’t bring my own backup?” Alistair smirked, and his eyes flicked behind Dean’s shoulder. A dumb reflex made Dean swivel around, only to be met with a tall, blonde man, with the same blue eyes as Castiel. A knife met him halfway, digging into his shoulder. He yelled and-

               A shot rung out. He turned again, and Alistair was on the floor. A second shot, from behind. He crumpled to the ground like a piece of paper.

               There was blood. Too much blood. He couldn’t tell which was Alistair’s and which was his own. _Even the most evil people are made of the same junk._ He struggled for breath as he watched his life trickle away from him, gathering in a small puddle before running like water down the drain he hadn’t noticed they were standing over. Someone shouted, the ground rumbled like an earthquake. The form of someone moved closer to him. More yelling. _Make it stop_ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super proud of my consistent update schedule. That being said, I won't be able to for like a week. Sorry. Yes, I planned it.
> 
> Also, is it too much to mix it all up like that?  
> ironically, Twist and Shout, the song, was playing while i wrote the ending. huh.


	15. It's Over.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean talk.
> 
> TWs: i dont know, tell me if theres any??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT ON 01/05/17 (english date, cos suck it!)  
> Uh, so, thanks to WhyIOtter4, who helped me fix what was a little off, this chapter has been edited to clear up one more loose end, that I didn't realize might not be completely clear. Sorry, and thank you!

Sam felt uneasy, but he couldn’t say exactly why. It had been a good day. So why?

               He’d been let out of hospital a few days ago, and had tried to catch up with Dean and Castiel again but, from what he’d heard in hurried phone conversations with Charlie, Bobby, and Ellan, now was not A Good Time. Last he’d heard, Dean, Cas, and Charlie were crashing at Ellen’s. He longed to know what was going on, but every time he called Dean, he got the answerphone.

               But now, something was off. He could tell. He tried to call Dean again, but gave up after a few rings.

               “Fuck it.” He mumbled, grabbing a jacket and running out the door. He’d go over there, just to check.

               *~*~*~

               “S…Sam.” The voice crackled over the phone, and suddenly Sam’s unease spiked to fear.

               “Castiel? What’s wrong?” Sam tried not to swerve on the road, more for fear of what Ellen would say if he crashed her car than anything. He’d called her when he’d reached her vacant hime, and she told him to take her cherry red pickup truck. He thanked whatever deity was watching over them that Ellen had walked to work that day. He put the phone on loudspeaker.

               “I…I’ve made a mistake, Sam. A horrid mistake, a-and…I think Dean’s been hurt.” His voice choked.

               “What? OK, Castiel, breathe. What’s happened? Where are you, what’re you talking about?” There were so many questions.

               “I-I’m at the precinct. I…Oh, God, Sam. I think Dean’s dead.”

               Freezing electricity shot down Sam’s spine. The bus pulled to a stop and he shot out. It was only a short distance to the precinct, and he wasn’t out of shape. The run would take minutes. “Cas, I’m on my way. I swear, everything’s gonna be OK. Dean…I’m sure Dean’s fine. What’s happened?”

               In these few minutes, Castiel told Sam _everything_. From Alistair’s abuse, to his brother’s crimes and their role in the Winchester’s parent’s deaths, and Dean’s fight at the airport. Of course, Castiel’s details were foggy in this last.

               “—A-And then there was a gunshot, and, and…” Castiel trailed off. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I…I knew all of it, and I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Y…your brother killed my parents? Castiel, I was six _months old_ when my mother died.”

“I was six! I would have stopped them if I could, and God knows I tried before your father’s death, but…Sam, I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me, but I _have_ to see if Dean’s alright.”

               Sam was angry. He was distraught. But he could see where Castiel was coming from. He sighed, just as he reached the precinct. Castiel was stranded, without a car and no money to get the bus. He was pacing frantically back and forth, sobbing unabashedly. When Sam pulled up, Castiel span.

               “Sam! Sam, please, we have to get to the hospital!”

               Sam nodded and pushed the passenger door open. Cas all but flew in, and they were off.

~*~*~*~*~*

_The room was dark, as it should have been. Moonlight shone through the blue curtains, moving ever so slightly from the breeze from the old fan that sat by his bed. It was all familiar, but strange. Unsettling. Had he been here before?_

_Screaming. Orange light. Oh, no. He remembered this. He’d been four years old. He’d gone to bed wanting ice cream. Sammy had been six months old._

_He shot out of bed so fast, he fell. Since when had he been so short? He was dwarfed by everything he saw. The screaming got more intense. He ran instinctively to the nearest door, Sammy’s door, but a tall silhouette blocked his path, loading a small blanket bundle into his arms._

_“Take your brother outside! Now, Dean, go!” A voice he hadn’t heard in loading a small blanket bundle into his arms._

_“Take your brother outside! Now, Dean, go!” A voice he hadn’t heard in_ years _. He held his brother like the most precious thing in the world, bolting away as fast as his tiny legs would carry them. The stairs were tricky, being so steep and all, but he made it. Sammy had started to cry, and Dean absentmindedly rocked him lightly, shushing the way he’d seen his mother comfort them both. He was nearly there. He could see the door. It hung open, and the front garden looked so peaceful. Still, bathed in moonlight and void of life. Just a few more steps. Nearly…_

_A hunched figure moved outside. He…This didn’t happen before._

_No. Wait._

_Yes. He had seen someone move outside before, he remembered yelling for their help, despite the ‘don’t talk to strangers’ rule his parents had hammered into his ears._

_The figure turned. This was new. Suddenly, Dean was frozen in place. Flames licked around him, devouring the staircase and climbing the walls. The door. He could still see the figure, yellow eyes shining maliciously. A flash of blue._

_He was in a car. His car. Baby, the Impala John Winchester had given him the day he passed his test. But he wasn’t driving. He was in the passenger seat, filled with a rare joy. This scared him. He looked at the driver side, and, yeah, there he was. John Winchester. Sammy was speaking behind them, but Dean couldn’t make out words. The road passed them by, every now and then dotted with trees and houses. He remembered this, too. It was going to happen any time n—_

_BANG!_

_And there it was. There was a flash of light; the car turned over.  It spun, and he felt like he was in a washing machine. Metal bent, leather ripped, and a bright orange light reflected in every angle. He was weirdly calm._

_Why wasn’t he panicking?_

_Something heavy, maybe John’s pistol, hit his head. He was upside down, blood rushing to his head, pooling on the floor. The…roof._

_The world kept spinning, though, and just before darkness enveloped him, he made out several, fuzzy figures. Bright yellow eyes. A flash of blue, but not the same one before. Well, yeah, it was, but there was another. Like…a beacon. Calling for help. Blue._

_He was at his apartment. His…old apartment. What was he doing? He should be getting out. He knows what’s going to happen. He knows, but he can’t stop himself meandering about, just like he had done that night. He was_ incredibly _drunk. Huh. He hadn’t remembered being that utterly smashed. He remembered that…he used to do that a lot. Almost every night. Drinking alone. Wow, Dean, how sad could you be?_

_Cas had changed him a lot._

_He fell to the couch, passing out almost immediately._

_Smoke. Smoke and heat. He couldn’t move. He was aware of the encroaching flames, but couldn’t find it in him to care. So what if he dies here? The world keeps turning, Sam and Jess would move in together, get married, have kids. His friends would go on without him, too. It’s not like he had any other commitments._

_So, this is it._

_This is how Dean Winchester dies._

_No. Someone yelled something, but he couldn’t call back. The voice was gruff, desperate. On hindsight, Dean knew who would help him. Who would go on to win him over, then lie to him about everything. So that wasn’t worth it, either. Cas had lied to him from the off. So what if he died here? Castiel would live on with Meg the cat. And…Not a lot else. Good. Serves him right. Serves him right for being such a liar. The first good thing to happen to him in over two years, and he threw it away. Not that Dean was a good thing, but still. Damn him. Damn him for being so…cute. Funny._

_…Scared._

_Castiel was scared._

_And for some reason, even after everything, that just didn’t sit right with him._

_The smoke cleared minutely, and he took the chance. He yelled all he could, until—_

_A flash of blue._

_Dean Winchester is saved._

~*~*~*~*

Charlie couldn’t sit still. Yeah, Alistair was declared dead at the scene, and the Lawrence 99 officers had found and detained three other hostiles trying to flee the scene. But not Castiel’s brother. Oh, no, Lucifer was long gone. And it made Charlie nervous.

               She only had to shoot a look at the others to know they felt the same way. And the waiting room of Lawrence Mercy hospital was not the most chilled-out space to think. The ambulance had arrived as fast as it could, but…there was so much blood. The bullet had hit Dean’s chest, but since none of them had seen the gun in Lucifer’s hand, it could have been angled anywhere.

               The doors flew open, and Sam and Castiel bustled in. Charlie was up in an instant, slamming Castiel against the wall.

               “How _dare_ you?! You knew! You knew, all this time, and you said _nothing_! We all _trusted_ you, Castiel, _Dean trusted you_ , and now he might _die_.”

Ash grabbed her, pulling her back, and she turned to face him. “Don’t tell me you’re not angry, Ash!” She was about to say something else, louder, but Ash’s concerned and worryingly serious face stopped her.

               “Charlie, look at him. He already blames himself, he already knows what he should have done. But he didn’t. What’s happened has happened, and now we have to wait.”

               Charlie did look. She turned, and for the first time, possibly ever, actually _saw_ Castiel.

               His chest was jumping, like he was barely holding back tears, but he was hiding his face. When he looked up, his blue eyes were ringed with red, and his face was stained with fat tracks of water. His hair was rumpled, worse than normally, and he was hunched over, as if willing himself to disappear.

               His voice, when he collected himself enough to speak, was weak. Deeper than normal, lower, like a whisper. “I…I’m sorry. I have no way to show you how much I wish I’d told him everything. I was…so scared. And I know, that’s no excuse, but…I didn’t know this would happen. I…Dean, he…he’s the first good thing that happened to me in a long time. I…I was too selfish; I didn’t want to lose him. I’m so sorry, Charlie. I’m sorry, all of you. I…Oh, god…”

               He trailed off, and Charlie sighed. “I don’t forgive you, Cas, not yet. If, _if_ , Dean comes out of that operation alive, _then_ I’ll think about it.”

               Castiel nodded, and looked up. “Charlie Bradbury, thank you. That is more than I deserve, and I know it.”

               Sam took a seat, staring at nothing. Ash patted Charlie’s arm, giving her a small, faux-reassuring smile. It didn’t work.

               She all but collapsed on her chair again.

               Charlie couldn’t sit still.

 

               Thankfully, she didn’t have to for long. The surgery was fast, faster than any of them had expected. A nurse emerged, eyed their rather large group cautiously, and inquired, “Dean Winchester?” When met with eager nods and searching eyes, she smiled. “He’s out of surgery. Im afraid that I can only let immediate family in at the moment, until he gathers some strength. Are any of you related?”

               Sam stood. “I’m his brother. Sam Winchester.”

               The nurse nodded, and indicated that he should follow her.

*~*~*~*~~

               Sam was in the room for what felt like hours. Cas had started to fidget. He knew the officers were giving him disappointed looks, but he didn’t want to face them.

               He was too weak to face them.

               When he saw Dean again, they’d fight. Dean would dump him, he’d go back to living with Meg and Netflix and microwave ramen. These had been the best few weeks of his life, despite everything. That was a scary thought. How messed up was his life, if a few terror-filled months with one detective were the best he could come up with?

               And now, it was all over.

               Of course, all this was assuming Dean wanted to talk to him at all. He should probably just leave. What was he doing here again?

               The slight creek of the door to Dean’s room made him look up reflexively. Sam’s eyes met his own, and the Winchester nodded, indicating that he should go in next.   

               Cas swallowed. Oh, God.

*~*~*~

_The room was bright. Too bright. A steady beeping filled his ears. Too loud. Scratchy cotton lay under his fingers and over his legs, and the gross smell of hand sanitizer attacked his nostrils. He opened his eyes again. The room was pure white. A few pale blue accents. It was the wrong shade of blue._

_The door swung open gently and a nurse, plump and cheery and kind of stereotypical, but in a good way, popped her head in._

_“Mr Winchester,” she whispered, “your brother’s here. As are, I think, half the population of Lawrence! Or, at least, the PD. Would you like me to let Sam in?”_

_Dean nodded, trying to sit up and failing pathetically._

_“Hey, Dean.” Sam nodded in greeting and the nurse disappeared._

_“Sammy. Oh, how the tables have turned. Sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, I was kinda…uh…tied up.”_

_Sam smirked. “What you an’ Castiel do in private isn’t my business, Dean.”_

_That made him chuckle, which was painful. When he told Sam as much, Sam just ‘aww’ed. He knew how much Dean hated pity._

_“Is Castiel here?” Dean sneered. When Sam nodded in response, Dean sighed. “Did he tell you?” Another nod. “Fuck, Sammy, I don’t know what to do. How the fuck could he do that? Lie, right to my face?”_

_Sam sighed. “Ask him, Dean. He’s beating himself up over it, that’s for sure.”_

_“OK. I’ll talk to him.”_

_~*~*~*~_

               When Cas appeared at the door, he was so quiet that Dean wasn’t even sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

               “Cas? C’mere.” Dean twitched his had in beckoning, and Castiel padded forward.

               Suddenly, it all became too much. Again.

               “Dean, I’m so sorry. I should have told you, but I was selfish, I didn’t want to lose you. I…I…I understand, if you never want to see me again, I do. But please, please don’t hate me. I made a mistake, and I regret it so much. I’m sorry, I—”

               Dean chuckled, but he didn’t really feel it. “Cas, It…It’s not OK, you did lie to me. But…I don’t blame you. Not…not really. It’s not gonna go back to normal, but…I don’t hate you. I mean…your brother did kill almost my whole family.”

               He regretted it as he spoke, and Castiel slumped into a nearby chair. “He’s not my brother. Not anymore. I haven’t talked to him in years. Dean, if I could, I’d…I’d…”

               “…I know, Cas. It’s OK.”

               “How are you?”

               “…Oh, you mean this?” Dean gestured to the bandage around his chest. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m sure I’ll pull through. I only risked my life for you and your honour, and I must still be drowsy, because I don’t quite recall hearing a thank you…”

               Castiel smiled. “Yes. My hero. Thank you, Dean.” He moved closer to his boyfriend, _his boyfriend_ , and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “My prince Charming saved me from the monster, and now we live happily ever after, yes?”

               The familiar words made them both grin, and Dean pulled him closer.

               “…Hey, Cas?”

               “…Yes, Dean?”

               “Did you name your cat after Meg Masters, the perp from the station?”

               Castiel laughed. “No. Meg Ryan.”

               “…From When Sally met Harry?”

               "Maybe."

               The two of them erupted in giggles. Manly, not-at-all-Lovestruck laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOAH UNEXPECTED EARLY UPDATE!!  
> What do you think? Please tell me!  
> Hey, if you wanna, drop in on my tumblr?  
> http://cracked-in-a-box.tumblr.com/


	16. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 01/05/17 (uk date)  
> this one was changed a bit, read notes on last chapter for deets.

“No, I can do it!” Dean yelled. “I got shot, I’m not useless!”

               Cas rolled his eyes. “I know, Dean, but I only asked if you needed help, that’s all. I never said you were incapable.”

               Dean sighed, slumping over the support beam and dropping the Allen key. “Yeah, Cas. I’m sorry. It’s just, everyone at the precinct is waitin’ on me hand an’ foot, and Sam won’t give off about me doin’ those stupid exercises.”

               Cas sat on the floor, the other side of the partially-constructed dining table. “Those exercises will help you, Dean. And _I_ know you do them, but Sam isn’t here twenty-four-seven to see that for himself. He already thinks I’m too soft on you.”

               Dean let out a snort, and mumbled, “’Soft’ is not the word I’d use to describe you, Cas.” It was a sub-par line, but still made Castiel smirk. He threw a cushion at Dean, who caught it effortlessly. “Uh! Assaulting an injured police officer, who almost _died_ for you! That’s low, Cas, I thought better of you!”

               Ca sneered. “You didn’t ‘nearly die’. The bullet nicked your shoulder blade and missed all vital organs. You’re very lucky, Dean.” This last was more serious, and it made Dean hum.

               “I know, Cas. I love you.”

               “I’d love you more if you’d put this table together so I can sort out my living room.” Castiel got up, plodding to the kitchen to start dinner. “Chicken pasta, Dean?”

               “Uhm, that’s _our_ living room, babe. And, yeah, please.” Dean gave Cas one of his shit-eating grins, and as if to punctuate his point, Meg sauntered through his space, jumped over the upside-down, partially built table and flicked her tail at him smugly. “And you, you’re just allergies on legs.”

               Castiel tossed a (thankfully unused) tissue at him. “Oi, you, don’t think I won’t make you sleep on the couch if you insult her again.”

              

               They assembled the table, (Cas did help,) and ate dinner, and were getting started on another of the boxes when someone knocked at the door. It was a strong, rhythmic knock, and Dean knew who was behind the door before he even opened it. Who else knocked the intro to the Doctor Who theme tune?

               Charlie was grinning so much, Dean had to wonder if her cheeks hurt. She was clutching a gift-wrapped cube and a box of beers. “Dean-o! I couldn’t wait ‘til the housewarming, I had to see!”

               Dean grinned, and took the beers from her. “Hey, Charles. Come in. I’d take the other box too, but there’s no guarantee that I won’t drop it.” She skipped into the new apartment, where Cas was sorting through boxes, looking for something that obviously wasn’t in there.

               “Cas!” She greeted him. Things had been rocky between Charlie and Castiel for all of a week, before they decided that it wasn’t worth the effort. They worked too well for each other to be mad for too long. Dean was glad about that.

               “Hello, Charlie. How are you?” Castiel smiled warmly, and accepted the gift from her. “Thank you!”

               “No probs, Cas. ‘M good, I just finished Alistair’s troupe’s paperwork!”

               Cas grinned. “That’s great! Any news on, uh…” He trailed off, suddenly unsure.

               Charlie just winced sympathetically. “Sorry, bud. But looks like Luci’s long gone.”

               Castiel nodded, like he didn’t expect any different. Dean looped his arms around Castiel from behind. Or he tried, but with a next-to-numb arm, he could only do so much. Charlie took the end seat on the couch, sprawling over the middle too. Meg appeared, clambering over her stomach and doing what Dean thought was called ‘loafing’.

               Cas, still clutching the box Charlie had given him, took a seat across from the couch, leaving the last couch seat for Dean. Cas flicked his eyes between Charlie and the gift until she took notice and got the message. “Yes, you can open it!”

               He  grinned, then looked at Dean, who snorted. “Personally, I think I should. I mean, it’s not like I saved your life, of anything…or built the table you _insisted_ on getting. Ikea’s a bitch, man!”

               Cas rolled his eyes, but handed over the box, planting a small kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. “Fine, babe. You can open it.”

               Charlie ‘aww’ed. “You guys are so domestic!”

               “Speakin’ of,” Dean smirked, ripping the Vulcan-salute paper off the cardboard box, “how’s things with your place?”

               “Good, everything’s pretty much normal again. Plus, I, uh…kinda had to tidy up last night anyway…”

               Cas squinted, his head tilting slightly to the side, his universal, ‘I don’t quite understand’ gesture.

               “I had a date, Cas. A girl named Dorothy. She was cute.”

               Dean grinned and poked her with his foot. “You little player!”

               In an obvious ploy to change the subject, Charlie poked him back. “If you don’t hurry up and open that, I will!”

               Needing no further prompting, Dean ripped the paper and opened the box. Sat inside, amidst piles of Styrofoam, sat a black plastic circle, with a small, 3 digit dial on a plaque. Dean looked up at Charlie. “What? What is…?”

               She grinned. “It’s a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream lock! I figured, hey, if you’re gonna be livin’ together, a man’s gotta protect what’s his.”

               Dean snorted, and threw a Styrofoam peanut at her. “Hardy har-har, Charles.”

               Castiel smirked, and reached out for the lock. “Well, this is mine, now. I love you, babe, but there are somethings I just don’t trust you with.”

               Dean gasped, mock-affronted. “How _dare_ you! After I saved your l—”

               He didn’t finish the sentence, simply because Castiel pulled him into a kiss.

 

*~*~*~

The Official Housewarming party was two days later. Most of the boxes had been cleared, and the party was in full swing.

               The entire police dept. was there, as well as the fire fighters. And, despite Dean’s fears, they were getting along well.  Gabe and Ash were laughing about something, probably stupid, and Benny, Balthazar, and Kevin were talking in the corner, beers in hand.

               “Hey, babe.” Cas actually made him jump, and he almost dropped his own drink.

               “Cas, I love you, but we’re gonna haveta get you a bell or something.”

               Castiel smirked. “Sorry. How’s it going?”

               “Better than expected. Sammy’s not here yet, but no-one’s put cling film over the loo yet, so I count that as a win.”

               Castiel chuckled. "Have you been checking?"

Dean was about to reply, when the door opened. Sam, the 6’4” moose that he was, was awfully good at looking sheepish.

               “Sammy!” Dean grinned and went to join his brother. The flat was officially crowded. Cas smiled at his boyfriend mingle with guests, having just finished his own shift of human contact. Life, he reflected, was good. He sighed happily, and took a sip from his beer. Then nearly dropped it.

               The window, to the fire escape. It was open, but that wasn’t what caught his eye. A figure, dark and tall, stood staring inside.

               He was at the window before he could stop himself. He clambered out before his brain caught up with his body. “Lucifer. What do you want?”

Lucifer smirked. “Can I not see my baby brother settle in to his new home?”

               “No. You shot my boyfriend; you're a criminal. You’re crazy!”

               “Now, now, Cassie, that’s not nice.”

               “I don’t give a _fuck_ , Luc! Go away, leave us alone!”

               “I’m afraid I can’t, Cassie. Your little friends _killed_ my colleagues. They have to pay.”

               “No! No, I’m not gonna let you hurt them, Lucifer.” Castiel stepped into is space, grabbing his shirt and pushing him against the railing of the fire escape. Lucifer, taken by surprise, staggered backwards.

               “What’re you gonna do, Cassie? You’ve never been able to stand up for yourself. First me, then Ali, now your stupid little boyfriend.  He’s gonna realize how _pathetic_ you are, and then he’s gonna leave. Or, he could stick around and show you the treatment you deserve.” Lucifer punctuated his rant by shoving Castiel back, but the younger brother stood firm. it was clear that the 'treatment' Castiel deserved, in Lucifer's eyes at least, was not good.

               “No, Lucifer. You’re wrong. Dean isn’t like you, he’s definitely not like Alistair. I don’t care what you do, whether you leave, or stick around in Kansas somewhere lighting your pathetic little fires. But the entire state knows what you look like, so I’d go with option A, if I were you, or I swear to God, I’ll—” Castiel had been backing Lucifer into a corner, until he was against the railing. He didn’t have time to finish his sentence, because once again his body was moving faster than his brain.  Specifically, his fist moved faster than his mouth.

               Lucifer’s head jerked back when Castiel’s hand made contact, and Cas could see blood. Lucifer turned back, ready to retaliate, but Castiel was expecting it, and punched him again, an uppercut. He was yelling, nothing specific, just noises. Lucifer was taking the hits, and his mouth was bleeding. Cas tugged Lucifer up by the shirt and threw him against the wall. His head hit the brick, but not hard enough to cause any serious damage.

               “Cas! Cas, stop!” Suddenly, someone was pulling him back. Dean was holding him back.

               “No! No, Dean, I won’t! I won't stop, he deserves it!"” He was still struggling when Benny and Charlie grabbed Lucifer’s arms, holding him back from pouncing onto Castiel. The brothers didn’t break eye contact, even when Lucifer was led out, Charlie reading his rights and Benny calling a cop car. He didn't even struggle.

               The others stared after him.

               Castiel tugged his arms from Dean, but turned and buried his face in Dean’s shoulder. Thankfully, not the one with the bullet wound.

               “I’m sorry, Dean. I ruined it. I’m sorry…”

               Dean shushed him gently. “It’s OK, Cas. He’s gone. We’re home. It’s OK.”

"Why didn't he fight back?"

"God knows, Cas, but...I mean, he's alone now, right? His family hates him, he's got no friends, he...He's not gonna hurt anyone. Everything's gonna be OK."

               And, for the first time in his life, Dean meant it. Despite everything; regardless of the fights, the business, Lucifer, life was good.  He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, we're done! That's it, folks, you can go home!  
> Alternatively, you can read the first two chapters of my new SPN fic, A Slice of (Apple Pie) Life!  
> Have fun!  
> As always, if you want to, you can yell at me in the comments! :)


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